Erik paced in the solar room, Nadir sat in a nearby chair, nearly asleep on his hand. Foolish man didn't have a blasted thing to worry about.

Another low moan came from her bedroom, and Erik flinched, arm brushing for a sword that wasn't there.

He still remembered how earnest, how worried she had been that she wouldn't be able to have children for them. Erik hadn't worried much, women had children. Some of the babies died but others lived, one simply had to take things as they came.

But that was before he had spent months waiting for this one. Had put his hand on Christine's stomach to feel it's kick. To feel his own child.

Now he worried. And so he paced.

"How long?" He snapped at Nadir. He flinched and looked blearily at the notched burning candle.

"Three hours since we woke up."

"How long before that?"

"Meg says it started an hour after bed."

Erik paused, calculating. "Twelve hours of this, this… pain." He slumped, fists clenching as he heard a moan from the door.

Nadir shrugged. "Antoinette was in labor with our youngest for a day and a half. These things take time."

Yes. Time. Patience. Erik began his pacing again. He paused by Christine's door, over the heavy breathing of his wife, he heard the women whispering. They were whispering by the door.

"She's…. Well… need… hopefully we can..."

The door flew open and Erik jumped back into his pacing. One of the maid servants walked out, lifting her skirts to her ankles so that she might run down the hall.

"How is she doing?" Asked Erik. "Is she-" The girl turned to shrug and then ran on. Erik slammed his hand against the wall and hissed at the sting it brought.

"Give it up Erik." Called Nadir. "Birthing is a women's secret, they never so much as let the man have a wink of what is happening until it's over."

Erik slumped in his chair, his hand ran through his hair. "And what if there is trouble?"

"Don't get in the way, let them handle it. Antoinette is practically a midwife herself, she's helped birth so many babies, and our midwife is particularly good." Nadir shrugged. "I've helped horses give birth, but I wouldn't trust myself with something like my own wife and child." Then he settled back into his sleepy pose. "You should get dressed Erik, you'll feel better."

Erik sank father into his chair, it groaned in protest. "Perhaps."

A long scream of pain filled the room, Christine's beautiful voice twisted into pain and agony. Erik jolted up as if there was a fire in his chair, the door of her room filled his vision. In his mind's eyes he saw soldiers fighting, screaming as they fell. He could not save them, he had sent them to their deaths. Still, he rushed forward to fight for them.

Hands grasped his shoulders, holding him back, he threw them aside. Only to be held back again. There were more hands, and he could not push them back, he could not save her. He had to save her!

But he could fight away from those struggling hands. He had no sword to cut them down.

"Erik, Erik-" Nadir's voice called.

He could not save her.

And then he was wet, wet and cold. Water dripping down the inside of his mask, he blinked the liquid from his eyes and saw Nadir holding a bucket.

"Wha-"

"You… you had a memory again." Nadir told him, setting down the bucket. "I needed to shock you enough to bring you out of it."

Erik looked around him, seeing three of his own guards holding his arms and waist. "I apologize." He said slowly, "I am myself again."

The soldiers glanced to Naidr, who nodded, and they released him.

"Listen." Nadir clapped Erik on the back. "Go change, I'll get your horse. We're going riding."

"But Christine-"

"Has every woman in the castle at her beck and call. She will be fine." Nadir assured him. "You are far too worked up. You haven't had a memory in years, let's not get them started again."


"How is she doing?"

The poor maid servant looked terrified to see Erik looking down at her. He was as tense as ever, something even the four hour ride could not fix. She edged to the side, glancing to the stairway behind him that offered freedom.

His arm shot out the stop the doorway.

"Tell me, how is my wife fairing?" He hissed, hunching lower.

She shrank back. "Not well." She muttered, looking down to her leather shoes poking out from her dress.

Erik choked, as badly as if he had taken a punch to the stomach. "What- what appears..."

"We're… we're having trouble bringing out the child." The girl said slowly. "We're trying our best, but…"

"Go." Erik choked. "Go to her, now." And he freed the way for her. The girl scuttled up the stairs.

Nadir, who had watched the whole encounter watched her go. "Was that really necessary?"

Erik shrugged. "She never would have told me otherwise." Then he slumped against the wall. "Christine…"

Nadir placed a hand on Erik's shoulder. "I am sorry. We can only pray."

Erik snorted, heading up the stairs.

"Erik, she is strong. It is likely she will survive."

"They both will."

"If it is going as the girl says-"

"They both will survive. I will have a child and she will hold it in her arms and love it as she-" Erik choked. "-as she deserves." The solar room held Lady Giry, who was talking with the midwife quietly. When they both saw Erik they moved away into the Giry's room.

Nadir watched them, his eyes filled with worry. "Erik, I don't think we can assume-"

Erik's glare silenced him, though his eyes portrayed all his worry.

"You worry as much as your wife." Erik told him. "Keeping my wife cooped up in a room for two months. You fuss too much."

Nadir pursed his lips, sitting in his old chair.

Erik resumed pacing.

Lady Giry and the midwife returned to the room. The sun from the window crept across the carpeted floor, Erik noted it's movement across the room as he paced.

"Maybe you should go down and start training. I'll bet some of the knights are out there, waiting for you. You can't go on lik-"

A girl, carrying a bundle of blooden clothes ran from the room. Lady Giry stepped out after her, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Your Grace?" She said in a low, serious voice. "Your wife needs you."

Erik nearly pushed back Lady Giry in his excitement, then froze.

His lovely Christine. His lovely, perfect Christine, lay in the bed, pale and haggard. Her eyes gazed at nothing in particular. She almost looked dead.

"Christine, the baby?" Erik prompted, he reached out to hold her hand. She always did that when he was upset, perhaps it would help her.

She jerked her hand away the moment he touched it. At once her eyes were sharp and acute in their pain, a tear rolled down her cheek. "Dead."

"Christine…"

"Why did you marry me?" She whispered, her voice hoarse and harsh. "Why do you want me? I am a common spinster girl with no dowry, no title to my name, no great beauty to hide behind. I have only been an inconvenience to you. You have to spend a fortune on me, with dresses and jewels that any noble woman should have had from the beginning. A woman who was trained to run a castle and be a noble lady." She laughed. "I don't even have the courage to take charge of my own castle. I'm a coward, hiding behind Lady Giry."

The maidservants hovering around the edges of the room looked downward, as if ashamed.

"Do- do you love me?" Erik whispered. "Did you not want to marry me?"

"Of course I love you." She spat. "Intelligence, wit, kindness, I have never-" Here she choked. "-I have never loved anyone, anything more. You deserve more. More than what I have. A woman who can provide an heir. Not a stillborn girl."

Erik watched her slowly turn away from him. "I- I adore you, Christine." He said slowly. "I would have no other woman by my side, I love you-"

"But why, why!?" Christine spun on him, her voice cracking as she shouted. "Why do you love me? What could I have possibly done to earn it? I can't provide you with anything you need. Stability in your court, love among your servants, an heir. None of it!" She screamed. "Are you blind, do you not see me pushing around the food on my plate, for it has been spoiled? Do you not see me heming my clothes again and again, for they were ripped out during washing? Have you seen me converse with any woman in the court other than Meg and Lady Giry? They hate me, they all hate me! Your love, however strong, is not enough. You cannot simply love this away, you need- you need someone more than I. Someone who is patient who can lay still long enough to not birth a stillborn." She collapsed against her pillow. "I was a fool to accept your proposal. A selfish fool. I have trapped you in a marriage where I am naught but a burden." Her fury was spent, she looked away, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Erik stared, then he turned to look at the maidservants in the room.

"Don't reprimand them, Erik." Christine murmured. "They think I seduced you, then bound you to me with your honor, of course they hate me."

Always, always thinking of others. Always defending them, making excuses for them. Always, his wife did such things.

"Leave." He commanded, and they all fled the room, only the midwife remained. She gave Erik a stern look, then shuffled out.

"I will not have you say such things." Erik whispered the moment the door shut. "I will not have my own wife so unwelcome in your own home."

"You cannot force them to love me." Was the tired reply.

Erik turned on his feet, watching his pale, thin wife. "I see I have been neglecting you in many ways."

She shook her head, she pushed her damp, limp hair from her face. "No, this isn't your fault. It is mine alone. I apologize, I should not have spoken. I will manage. I will… I will be alright. I just need time." She smiled sweetly up at him. "Truly, I'm not so unhappy as that."

She covered her pain well. Too well. He suddenly realized how rarely he saw it.

How often had she brought her complaints out of him, forced him to confess his dilemmas, and then vanquish them in the same moment?

What a fool he was to think that she did not have any of her own.

His lips trailed down her arm as he spoke. "What do you need, little wife." He begged between kisses.

"Erik, really-"

He didn't let her finish. "Let me help you. What can I do?" He stared at her with desperate eyes.

She was silent, staring off at the wall, then suddenly she whispered. "I want to be a duchess, properly. To be lady of this castle, properly. I- I want to run it on my own." Then she smiled a little. "I know I could win them over then, this has only held out so long because I have been hiding behind Lady Giry. I really have been, I'm too afraid to ask her to step down."

Erik stared. "But of course, I only thought, with it being so large..."

Christine waved her free hand. "Oh, don't worry about that. I have long become used to its size. But they need to see leadership from me." Christine gazed at him. How quickly she was recovering! "They need to see I am worthy of their respect. I can do it, if I am the lady of the castle."

"Of course, I will ask her to step down as soon-"

"No, I will do it myself." Christine told him. "It will be better that way. I can do it, now that I know you approve."

Erik nodded. "Of course, what else?"

"I… I don't know." She said finally. "I think that is the crux of it."

"Promise me you will tell me any other concerns you might have." Erik said. "Promise me."

Her voice was faint, but firm. "I promise."

Erik held her hand for a few moments.

Then suddenly a sharp gasp filled the room, tears were streaming down her cheeks again.
"Oh, Erik." Christine whispered. "Oh, Erik. The baby, the baby…" her voice broke and she turned to him, her arms opening for someone to cling to.

Erik tried to hold her as she held him. Her face buried itself in his shoulder as she sobbed. Her shoulders shaking with the effort.

Erik rubbed her back as she did with him, and then, struggling not to cry himself, sang a lullaby he had heard as a child.

It seemed to calm her somewhat.


"Where is the baby?" Erik snapped, strolling out from Christine's room.

The midwife, sitting in a chair next to Nadir sat up. "And how is her Grace?" She demanded.

"Sleeping." Erik turned to her. "Where did you send the baby's body?"

"I sent the girl to dispose of it, you couldn't retrieve it now."

Erik's hands fisted. "If you birth us another stillborn, we will bury the body. You will act accordingly."

The midwife stared. "I- very well."

Erik swept down the stairway. He walked to the chapel, pushing open the doors.

The priest entered the hall. "Yes?"

"I need to make an addition to the family records." Erik told him.

The raised his eyebrows. "Ah, boy or girl?"

"Girl."

"I will fetch the papers. Her name?"

"Abigail." Erik said. "She passed away today."

The priest stopped. "A stillborn?"

"Yes."

He turned. "Ah, well. Stillborns do not require records. We can simply-"

"We will record her." Erik snapped. "We will remember her. And her name was Abigail."

The priest shook his head. "I- very well."

I uh, I have nothing to say for myself. I hope... you cried? at this chapter? I hope this doesn't come off as too cheesy or emotional, I want it too be a really emotional and important scene.

Reviews make authors happy. :)