Author's Disclaimer: I don't own a thing belonging to "Dragon Age 2." The characters belong to BioWare.
Author's notes: Here we go with Mother Merrill giving birth! The idea for the emergency technique not well known to this world was suggested and thought up with CharlieBarrow. Credit, credit.
And yes, I played a dwarven Inquisitor in my DA3 playthrough. And had to reference Scout Harding.
"Catching the Wind"
Chapter twenty-nine "Dangerous Birth"
"Look out!" Mel said. She and a few of the sailors of the Stormy Lover turned the corner quickly and ducked out of sight. A line of armored men and women clanged past.
"Local screws?" one of the women asked. Mel shook her head.
"No, they have an insignia on their armor. Never seen it before." The insignia appeared to be an eye fringed with lines of flame. It intrigued her.
"Make way, make way for the Inquisition!" one of the soldiers called. The townsfolk stopped and also made sure to stay clear of the advancing line. Surprisingly, there were a few dwarven scouts at the head of the procession of humans and elves in uniform.
"What is that? Inquistion?" one of the men wondered.
"I don't know. We should get back to the ship," Mel said. On the way, she was glad to see Craven's large form parked at the foot of the gangplank. He had drawn guard duty and his stolid form and hand on his machete hilt deterred anyone from getting too close. Isabela's sons were at his feet, waiting. She made sure to give a flirtatious wink to the large sailor. Craven blinked slowly, face reddening.
"Is the Captain back?" one of the sailors wondered. Craven nodded.
"Merrill wasn't feeling up to port today. She went to lay down and Captain and the Champion went with her."
Falcon's eyes shone. "Mamae was tired."
"I hope she feels better!" Lark chimed in. Mel took his hand and one of the betas collected Falcon.
"After she has the baby, she'll have abit more energy. Abit at least," Mel said. The boys nodded.
The crew made their way on deck and Craven's eyes met Mel's. She gave the tall man an assuring smile and was satisfied to see a blush dart across his cheeks.
Well, the way life was progressing was looking up.
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Hawke helped Merrill onto the wide bed and pressed kisses along her temple. Isabela was looking over her maps on the chamber's table, brow wrinkling in worry. Her worry extended as she gazed at the dozing elf. She was so wide and due any day now. Hawke laying at her side, curled up tight around her, told of her own worry. Her large hand was splayed over the swell of her belly, gently stroking her as she slept.
The two met eyes across the chamber. Isabela tried to smile but she looked down at the maps.
"Bela?" Hawke called softly.
"We can get to the island; it'll just take a few weeks. I wish we had bought off that official earlier…"
Hawke nodded. Her family name still had some clout and she had helped Isabela negotiate the island in Castillon's documents. That had been an interesting meeting to say the least. Hawke and a few of the sailors had secured an impromptu "meeting" through force of arms and Isabela had smacked the finely dressed man in the face with Castillon's documents.
Hawke had added some of the last of the gold in her mother's small chest to name the island theirs in deed. The document was wrapped up and carefully stored in Isabela's chest on the table in her quarters, but they had no idea what they'd find when they reached the place. Was anyone living there, would they listen to their authority or would they have to empty the land themselves through brute force?
Hawke would do anything to secure a new home for her family. Her gaze softened as she watched Merrill sleep. Lines of exhaustion lay around her eyes and Hawke kissed her temple gently. Her little elf was so fatigued nearing her birthing time, and Hawke could panic instantly if she dwelled on it. She had no idea how Isabela had done this, and without her…..
Hawke swept her gaze to her pirate queen, guilt in her green eyes. Isabela smiled gently at her though and blew her a kiss. She set the maps down and made her way to the bed. She loosened her corset and curled up on Hawke's side. She curled around her back, basking in her mate's strength. Hawke turned her head to give her a kiss, her limbs still curled round Merrill.
"How did you do this?" Hawke asked her quietly. The 'without me' was in her gaze and Isabela's mood sobered. She wished she had come to Hawke sooner, wished she had let her take care of her. Her pups would have been in the best care, and Hawke loved her. She wished she'd gotten better sense sooner.
"I should have come to Kirkwall sooner. Should have….." Isabela murmured. Hawke rolled on her back, surrounded by her mates. Isabela lay across her torso, pillowing her head on her breast. Hawke kissed the top of her head and twined an arm around the pirate's back, holding her close. Isabela felt the slightest twinge in her hand as her Champion stroked her back.
"It's okay, Bells. I just wish I could have been there when the boys were born….they must have been so cute…."
Isabela blinked hard to keep tears from forming. She wished it too. She leaned up and kissed Hawke fiercely. The kiss turned sweet and affectionate and Hawke murmured loving words each time their lips separated but for a moment. Isabela lifted and buried her face in Hawke's tunic front.
"This one will have our full attention. I think you're up for the task."
"I am," Hawke murmured. "We made this baby…and I'll do what I can for her."
Isabela's heart pained. She reached across Hawke's torso to stroke Merrill's arm. "She'll be a good mother too…."
"Are you jealous? Please don't be," Hawke murmured. She kissed Isabela's head.
"Not for her. Merrill helped us. But I just wish….."
Hawke turned Isabela's face up to her. "I know, Bells. Me too."
Isabela cuddled on her mate, closing her eyes. Hearing Hawke's steady heartbeat against her cheek helped.
Merrill whimpered as she began to wake and both of them rubbed her limbs, and the swell of her belly, offering her anything she needed. Merrill's eyes opened, blinking sleepily as she grunted with surprise as the baby kicked rapidly.
"Just some water, please!" she begged. Isabela leaned to peck a kiss on her head, before springing for the water barrel in her chambers. Hawke spoke quietly to her and Merrill's hand caressed her cheek lovingly. Isabela's sharp eyes made their way to Merrill's hips. They were rather narrow still, her former spritely form filled with the baby inside her, but the fact of it was she may still be too thin. How was she going to pass the baby?
Isabela kept her worries to herself. She knew Hawke was worried sick as it was. Only drilling their sons in swordplay kept her mind at ease at all these days.
"Here you go, kitten, drink up," Isabela suggested. She climbed on the bed and carefully handed the tin cup to the pregnant woman. Merrill leaned up with Hawke's help and drank deeply. A line of water trailed from the corner of her mouth.
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It began early one afternoon. Merrill had protested she needed some fresh air and had waddled up to deck. Hawke had been drilling her sons but had rushed over seeing her on the arm of one of the beta males.
"I'm fine, Hawke, go on, Falcon and Lark need you," Merrill chirped. Hawke had an agonized look on her face but gave a nervous smile. She dropped a few kisses to her mate's brow, smiling when Merrill patted her hip softly. The ship was anchored inland, within stone's throw of a small port town. They had lain anchor abit further from the majority of the docks and ships, to stay away from other's authorities. A local midwife was hired, and she was kept on deck since and offered a place in the woman's quarters.
For it was all really just a matter of days now.
Isabela adjusted her wide hat as she watched everyone from the wheel deck. The midwife was with Merrill now, fussing over her. Her first assessment of the elf had not been forthcoming. She had commented how thin Merrill was, despite the large swell of her belly. Privately, she had spoken with Hawke, and Isabela had pushed in to be part of that conversation.
The narrowness of Merrill's hips had been brought up again. Hawke had blanched even paler at the assessment. The unspoken threat of the baby's journey towards danger hung over their heads. Isabela had had to cling hard to Hawke, forcing her to calm down through bodily touch. Only after she had calmed could Hawke go near her second mate and try to appear unfazed.
They were dancing a delicate dance to keep worry from the young mother-to-be and Isabela worried it was in vain, even if they kept in step with nary a word to prove otherwise.
When Merrill uttered a sharp gasp, clutching her middle, Isabela had taken off. She took off her hat and flung it to a sailor who caught it, securing it for her. She knelt beside her chair, Hawke at her side. The smile Merrill tried to give them was fraught with pain. It was apparent she had entered her labor pains. Trickles of water dripped from her legs and onto the deck. Both women stared down at it.
"Well, that's it, then. We'll need to get her to bed," the midwife said nonchalantly. Hawke picked the elf up easily in her arms, carrying her below decks. The twins stood, wooden weapons in hand, staring after their sire and Mamae. Isabela knelt before them, stroking a small shoulder in either hand.
"Mamae's going to have the baby soon. Don't worry, pups. Everything's gonna be fine."
Isabela wasn't sure she believed it herself, but the grins on her boy's faces was reassuring.
"We'll be good and wait!" Falcon saluted his mother with his miniature sword. Lark cuffed his shoulder playfully. Mel strode up, coiled rope looped around one shoulder. She gave a nod to her captain.
"I've got them, Cap'n. Go on."
Isabela gave her a grateful look and hurried after Hawke below decks.
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Isabela didn't know what she had been expecting. She helped her mate and the midwife, fetching boiling water from the galley, and tools and doing anything she could to help, but hours later, the labor pains had only stretched on.
Merrill was almost dilated, but lay in a puddle of her own sweat, weak and feeble. Hawke had her hand clenched tightly, the knuckles of Merrill's thin hand turning white as she squeezed and gasped through the pain. Isabela was getting worried. Her own labor had been a few short hours and the twins had come in quick order. She was expecting the same for some reason.
But hours later, Merrill still wasn't anywhere close. She was fully dilated, and the midwife had encouraged her to push, but there was no sign of the baby's exodus from the birth canal. Nothing had breached Merrill's opening and Isabela and Hawke were near pale with worry. They spoke to Merrill, fetched her things and urged her, but still there was no sign of an infant being expelled from her. The midwife was growing frustrated and worried herself, brow lined with worry.
Merrill herself knew something had to be wrong and was laying, gasping with shudders of pain in between trying to push. Her pain made Hawke's heart shred. She had done this to her, it was a good thing they hadn't been able to knot before….
"Hawke," Merrill whispered, chapped lips parting to form her name. Hawke bent to kiss her cheek, her eyes wet with tears.
"Keep pushing, sweetheart. Please? It'll be over soon," Hawke lied. The midwife pulled Isabela aside. Craven had been called in to fetch something and he had lingered, eyes averted from Merrill's bare legs. He sidled up with Isabela. As Captain, she had serious decisions to make concerning those on board.
"I think we need to make a decision," the squat woman said. Beads of sweat lined her brow but her eyes were hard. Isabela swallowed.
"What even are you suggesting, woman?" she asked in a dangerous tone.
"I've seen long labors like this before. The baby's in distress. At this point, it's either it or the mother. I suppose the sire should be asked…." The midwife's eyes fell on Hawke. The strong alpha was slouched, guilt slumping her body in visible lines.
Isabela clutched the woman's shoulder hard with one hand. "That's not an option!" she snapped. Hawke gestured to Craven. That she would want him near the visibly distressed laboring woman was huge in itself. She took his large hand and laid Merrill's in it, squeezing, before letting go to sidle up with her mate and the squat midwife in the corner of the captain's chambers.
Craven leaned to croon encouragement in his deep rumbling voice and tears fell from Merrill's eyes.
"What?" Hawke snapped at the midwife. The shorter woman would not be cowed.
"This is a bad labor. The elf can't pass it; this is apparent. We need to make a decision for mother or for the infant…"
Hawke's fists clenched and it was only Isabela bodily getting in between her and the midwife that stopped her from attacking her. "You can't be suggesting that! Bela!" she snapped, looking to her mate. Naked worry was in her eyes. Isabela's heart bled.
"We have to figure something out, Hawke!"
"I'm not going to decide this!" Hawke snapped. Isabela's eyes flashed at her.
"Do you?..." she was going to ask if she wanted to see Merrill dead and tripped over her own words. Neither of them wanted to see it. Isabela swallowed the hurtful words. "We just need to…." Hawke's eyes glazed with alarmed hurt at her misstep. They stared at each other, slowly leaning together.
"I have a suggestion," Craven spoke up. Hawke gave a short curt gesture with her hand and the midwife took his place. The tall sailor crowded in their space, leaning his head low to murmur his words and not alarm the pregnant elf.
"In…my past," here Craven had almost slip he had been a slave. He went on. "I saw a difficult birth. The mother was the same as Merrill. Very thin. She couldn't pass the child."
"What are you saying?" Isabela asked. Hawke clutched her hand tightly enough to bruise.
"Well, one of….us there had learned of a new technique. He passed a knife shallowly, from hip bone to hipbone, low enough to reach the child through the cut. The child was pulled out and able to catch breath. And she was fine."
"And the mother?" Hope warred with despair in Hawke's heart. Craven's eyes twinkled.
"She was fine too. Had to be stitched up good, but she lived."
"Hawke, we have to do that. Kitten is too thin to pass the baby," Isabela pleaded. Hawke gave a terse nod.
"We need valerian and carryme root," she barked to the midwife. The woman raised a bushy eyebrow.
"I haven't suggested the mother need be drugged," she drawled. Hawke showed the woman a clenched fist in warning.
"NOW. Craven is going to show you where to cut and we're going to deliver our pup."
Craven kept his gaze from between Merrill's legs and uncovered her waist. He traced a gentle line with one large finger below the swell of her belly, between hipbones.
"We'll have to go quickly…" he suggested. The midwife looked alarmed but agreed.
"We need more knives," she suggested. Isabela ran to the galley to demand more from the cook. He had several utensils boiling in water on the stove and fetched her a few clean sterilized knives. Isabela wrapped them in a towel and charged back. The lines of curious sailors in the corridor she ignored, though she felt the pulse of their encouragement. She entered the captain's chambers.
Hawke was giving Merrill a hasty draught of the two numbing herbs she had ordered, and the elf coughed trying to get it down. Hawke urged her on, desperate love in her gaze.
"Love, you must drink it all," she urged. Merrill's eyes were naked with worry, wide and filled with tears as she finished. She slumped back, and the Champion climbed up on the bed to hold her upper torso, taking her in her arms. Isabela held up a piece of the sheets to shield Merrill from seeing what was happening below. After deemed sufficiently numbed, the midwife carefully cut, as shallowly as she could, where Craven had indicated.
Isabela blanched as Merrill lay in Hawke's arms, listening to the Champion speak lowly to her. So much blood, oozing down. She tried to peer closer as the midwife bit her lip and peeled the flap of skin aside carefully and reached in. Suddenly a small infant was in her bloodied hands, the umbilical cord still attached inside the elf's stomach.
"Oh, oh," Isabela murmured in surprise. Hawke's surprised gaze met hers and they both looked down Merrill's body. Craven held a towel to the infant's face as the midwife cleaned the mouth out and the infant screeched in surprise, tiny fists clenched in fury.
"Oh, Hawke," Isabela breathed. And she could see it was a girl as the midwife held her aloft proudly in both hands. She was put into Craven's large hands suddenly and the sailor crooned down to the furious squalls drifting up to him. The midwife cut the cord and went to work on the afterbirth, tugging it free with the opening, and moved quickly to stitch Merrill up. The elf's legs moved languidly as fatigue surged through her. Luckily the numbing herbs had kept much of the pain from her.
Merrill burst into tears, hearing the baby's cries. She lay, unmoving, trying to peer down. "Is…."
"She's here. We all have a daughter," Hawke rumbled to her. Merrill laughed, tears streaming down her face. Hawke leaned to kiss her face lovingly. Isabela clutched Merrill's shoulder tightly, offering her strength as she watched the new pup. She had her coloring, darker in tone than Hawke's, wisps of dark brown hair damp and curling. Isabela offered a towel and Craven carefully laid the pup in Merrill's arms. Hawke and Isabela supported her and all three of them gazed at each other then at the new pup. She sniffled and cried, stopped, as if unsure, then squalled again.
"I guess you told us, sweet thing," Isabela gave. Hawke gave her a lop-sided grin. She was relaxing into her role of proud sire immediately now that danger was far from her family.
"I did. It's a girl. I knew it!" Hawke leaned to kiss the pup's small squishy brow, and then Merrill's lips. Isabela felt something in her heart turn seeing them share a small moment together. She was so glad kitten was alright and would be fine. The baby was here.
But still…..
After a few moments, Hawke noticed her first mate had slipped out. "Stay with her, Craven," she ordered. Merrill's eyes were fluttering closed. The pup curled up on her chest, quieting. Her heart ached but Hawke left her small family to go after Isabela.
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After a hasty announcement in passing, Hawke passed through the lines of sailors, their cheers ringing in her ears. Her sons were bouncing up and down, eager to meet the baby and check on their Mamae.
"Soon, boys. Just a few more moments," Hawke promised. She patted them on the head affectionately and made her way up top. She glanced around the deck and glanced upward. Of course, the crow's nest. The night was dark, the stars out overhead as Hawke climbed the rope ladder. Wisps of a breeze whistled through her short hair. Leaning against the mast, Hawke pushed at the closed hatch above her. It thumped once, then began to give. Hawke pushed up with it, climbing up into the crow's nest.
"There you are," Isabela drawled. She was drinking from a flask, brooding and staring off into nothing. Hawke sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. Luckily, Isabela didn't pull away.
"Our daughter's here. Why'd you come up here?"
"I….I don't know…. She looks like me, but she's kitten's. Not ours. Not mine. Right?" Isabela uncharacteristically fretted. Hawke's heart pained at her mate's words. She put her hand over Isabela's and gently lowered her flask. She turned her chin up and kissed her lips sweetly. She put all her love and devotion into it and was pleased when Isabela leaned into her, murmuring against her.
"She is ours. Did you see her? She looks just like you," Hawke purred. Isabela's eyes were still sad, so she pressed a few kisses across her face. "Come back with us and see. She's all of ours. Merrill carried her too."
"She did…." Isabela sighed. "Okay, I'll come down."
"Good girl," Hawke said. She took the flask and took her own swig. The whiskey made a good burning stream down her throat. They climbed down and the twins rushed up, happy to see their mother back on deck. She patted their heads, smiling.
"Think kitten can handle these two?"
"She'll be fine. Come on, boys, we're going in to meet your sister," Hawke said. The boys exclaimed excitedly. They quieted at a look from their tired sire.
"Now what are we gonna name her….." Isabela wondered.
Hawke gave a shy smile at her mate. "Merrill had a few ideas. Magpie or Starling. She liked Starling."
It boosted Isabela's heart that she was as equally included. She beamed shyly. "Those are good names."
"Let's all pick together," Hawke suggested.
Pushing into the captain's chambers, the couple saw the midwife was gone, hopefully for the night. Merrill was stitched up, her torso covered with a clean nightgown. Her legs were covered with clean sheets. She was fast asleep, longer hair tousled as she sprawled across the pillows. Hawke didn't blame her.
"Slowly, boys," she warned as the twins charged up to Craven. For the baby lay bundled in the crook of his massive arm. He rocked the infant slowly, her face scrunched up in sleep. Merrill had fallen asleep with her hand on his arm, close to the infant as she could get. Seeing the devotion on the sailor's face told Hawke her earlier fears were unfounded. Craven would protect her children as equally. She didn't begrudge him guarding her second mate as she slept. She gave him a smile in thanks.
"What's her name?" Falcon asked. He and Lark stood on their tiptoes, meeting Craven as he leaned down so they could look at the bundle in his arm.
"We'll decide that soon enough. You are to protect her and your mothers. Can you do that, sons?" Hawke asked. Falcon and Lark nodded quickly.
"Course we will!"
"We'll look after her."
Isabela and Hawke shared a fond look. Hawke enjoyed the soft love in her mate's gaze.
"Thank you, boys."
"Say goodnight to Mamae and let's be quiet leaving."
Falcon touched his Mamae's hand, whispering goodnight. Lark chirped a goodnight as well, and they left the elf sleeping heavily. Isabela took the baby from Craven and tears filled her eyes as she sank into a chair. The curve of her mouth was hers, and the shape of her jaw was all Hawke. She wondered what color eyes she had. Darting a glance further, Isabela was surprised to see the tips of the infant's ears were pointed like an elf. She gave Hawke a confused look.
Hawke looked equally confused but shrugged. Ears aside, she looked like their child. But it was apparent the baby had taken abit from Merrill as well while inside her. Isabela couldn't find it in her to bemoan the difference.
End for now
End notes: If you like, drop a review. How do you like where the story's going? This one was still fun to write. Stay strong, my lovelies.
Sincerely, pen
2/12/2019