Rifiuto: Non Miriena

A/N: Written: 2012. Rewritten: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia

Arjiki Encampment,

Kellswater,

Spring Equinox,

1864

The hour of light and dark began to arrive.

Screams pierced the air, loud and primal and strong; a bellow escaped the young chieftess's throat as she bore down, pushing with all her might. Three hours earlier, the head of each babe had partially slid out of their mothers, but had gone no further. Elphaba now sat back against her husband's chest, holding his hands down between her thighs; his fingers brushed against the head of curls that partially hung out of his wife, and she looked up at him, breathing heavily due to the pain. He met her gaze, kissing her soundly. Perhaps, if it know you are here, it will be born, husband. It will be born now that it can feel you are here by my side...

She broke the kiss, digging her nails into his thighs as her back arched and she bore down, identical screams, primal and animalistic, rang out through the tent; not a word was said, for it was evident by now that the Great Mother was in control. She was making sure that both sisters went through this journey together. Fiyero only hoped the outcome would be in their favour, and not the legend's.

"Tienilo dentro, per favore! I don't want to... Lo voglio dentro..." Gently, Tibbett brushed sticky strands of hair from his wife's face, whispering softly to her, even as she continued to bear down, as her sister did the same.

"Hai quasi finito, amore mio. Our babe รจ quasi finita." Mulhama shook her head, screaming as she bore down again. Tibbett watched as the child his wife carried continued to come, the head eventually coming out completely; the same with her sister.

Minutes passed, as both sisters continued to birth, the babes they carried slowly leaving their bodies. Catching her breath, Elphaba collapsed back into Fiyero's arms; the babe was now partially out of her, one shoulder having fully appeared. She grit her teeth and pushed, but nothing happened. She let out another bellow, stronger this time, reaching down between her thighs.

A glance at her sister told her that Mulhama was experiencing the same thing, though the younger girl was more scared of the babe making its way out of her than the pain of labor, but Elphaba couldn't blame her. She'd been just as terrified when Irji left her body, for the sensations of labor were entire different to the sensations of birth; pains were simply that- pains, as the body got ready to expel the babe- but birth...

Birth was entirely different. It was much more primal; a weak woman could handle the pains of labor, but not the pains of birth as the babe made its way into the world, and a strong woman could handle the pains of birth but not the pains of labor. Fear was to be expected, especially if it was the first.

Blood trickled between her fingers as she pushed; Fiyero kept quiet, not wanting to upset his wife as she strained to birth their child. So instead, he reached up, sliding his hands over the sides of her belly, giving her his strength as she continued to push, letting out a whine of pain as her back arched and she snapped her eyes shut. A quick glance told him that Mulhama was facing the same; she held tight to Tibbett's hands, a screech of pain ripping from her throat. "Yero..." He turned back to his wife. Her chest heaved with each breath. "Tiri fuori... toglietelo da me... Per favore, marito... tiralo fuori..."

She began to cry, kicking out in response to the pain, hands never leaving her opening. He kissed her softly, whispering words of encouragement as his wife struggled to birth. She shook her head, sobbing desperately in pain, and it was then that he pressed his mouth to hers. He kissed her soundly, deeply, once more passing his breath to her and calming her down enough to focus. She drank in his breath hungrily, greedily, desperate for it, starving for it. Every fiber of her being craved it, right down to the tiniest follicle of hair.

Arjiki legend stated that if a man passed his breath to his wife while in the throes of labor and childbirth, that the babe would take their father's breath in through their mother's body and it would give both the strength needed- the babe to come, the mother to birth- to finally separate. He'd done so with each of their children before, and the legend had seemed to ring true; Elphaba, knowing the legend, was eager for it, desperate for it; anything, to expel this babe from her body.

Mulhama, meanwhile, buried her face in her husband's shoulder; Tibbett tightened his hold on her hands, chanting softly to her, letting his knowledge of medicinal charms and chants help calm his wife. The two vastly different approaches were a sight to behold; the Arjiki Chief, born of the tribe, relying on legend to help his wife through birth, while the medicine man, born of the white world, turned to chants and charms to help his wife. While neither was better than the other, both showed where their trust lay; Fiyero had witnessed his wife birth three times before, he'd held her through each painful labor and hard birth, comforted her as best he could, creating a bond stronger than any ever thought possible.

But for Tibbett and Mulhama, this was new; their first child, and though Elphaba and Fiyero had both given good advice, they chose their own path, that fit them best. They would learn, however, as the years went by, the path that worked best for them, though they would never fully turn from the old legends. They would adapt them, embrace them, as they both embraced the tribe, as Elphaba would embrace her role as Chieftess.

Elphaba pulled away from her husband and bore down. The shoulder that she had had such trouble birthing came out, and, as the hour of light and dark struck the earth, two strong, primal, identical screams rang out, accompanied by exceedingly hard, strong pushes from both laboring women. With the hour of light and dark upon the world, two babes, much anticipated by both their parents and their tribe, slid out from between their mothers' legs in bursts of blood and fluid.