Part 3: Hands (Part 3 of 4)
In response to a PM I got, the actual birth will occur in part 4.
That doesn't mean that I don't still want some reviews though… please?
If any "Return to Wonderland" readers are here, I'm sorry for the delay, but I will be back to that story soon. I just couldn't resist this prompt!
While the warm water of the bath may have been comforting, eventually Alice found that it no longer suited her. Her husband helped to dress her in a comfortable white robe, one of the more common clothing items available in the palace at Marmoreal.
Back to the bed it was then, to labor indefinitely. Lying on her side, Alice's long blond curls fell over her face and she did not care enough to move them. Only a single eye was exposed to the world.
She lost track of the time, and so did he. Her pains kept coming, though they were never any closer or further apart. If she was lucky, they were less than a full minute, but more often than not, she suffered for the full time. In this fashion, hours passed.
Ironically, the only one who was able to pass the time was the handmaid. Aiudala wandered about the room, cleaning, organizing, and then reorganizing. Mirana followed her with her eyes as she sat next to the midwife. The midwife yawned, drawing a surprised look from the queen.
Shrugging the woman sighed, "I'm a bit out of practice. It's been years since we had a baby born here in Underland. Ever since – "But she stopped as her eyes landed on the form of the Hatter, "Perhaps it's best to focus on the new."
Alice was changing in a few ways that were very encouraging to the midwife though. The young woman had begun to focus on her contractions, she was less interested in her surroundings and she reserved conversing for essential dialogue.
A rare response had been received when the midwife had observed that it was beneficial for her contractions to be getting more and more intense. Alice had quite flatly disagreed.
The White Queen looked over at the midwife with a questioning glance and the elder woman merely responded, "It's up to the child now."
Perhaps the very definition of loyal, Tarrant lay on the bed next to her facing her back. He rubbed her stomach when she was out of pain and gave her a comforting hand to hold when they struck her.
Alice had never been fond of being touched. All those years of having to hold the sweaty hands of boorish lords, or being tugged around by her upper arms had put her off of it. There was only one person who she permitted to touch her, even encouraged it, and that was the Hatter. Most people in complete control of their faculties would have some reservations concerning showing off hands that were so badly abused by milliner's work. As such, he didn't know and she had no intention of telling him.
In her own mind, she was focused on two things. Her pain and her husband. She could feel his breath on her neck, his hands on her belly. The thimbles and bandages on his hands were almost cool on her burning skin.
He understood that she did not have the will to talk to him at the moment, but that did not keep him silent. Tarrant cuddled close to his wife and whispered into her ear. There was no story he did not tell her. He told her of his own childhood in Witzend, his parents, his siblings. He related more about the day that he'd lost all of them to the Jabberwocky, and the day that he gained her first as a young friend at only seven years old. Hats he had made for the White Queen and the best strategies for killing time in preparations for the return of his Alice.
When the latest and particularly painful spasm hit her, she moaned loudly and mumbled something about being exceptionally tired.
This time, he related the story of their first night together, with wanton behavior on the tea table, the very same night that had brought them to this moment in time. Neither of them had expected it, but she didn't have any regrets, even in her pain.
"Hatter?" Her voice, exhausted, came to him.
"Yes?"
"Why is a raven like a writing desk?"
"I haven't the slightest idea."
Though no one could see it, she smiled. Suddenly, she felt the need to move and she sat up.
"Is everything okay?" Asked the midwife, taking notice of the sudden movement.
"I just wanted to sit up," She responded, "My back hurts."
Raising a hand in the air, the Hatter sat up as well, "I have an idea." He put his skilled hands to work on Alice's back, massaging every inch of available flesh he could.
She moaned in both pain and pleasure as another contraction hit her. Alice had tried to count how long they lasted, but this time, she couldn't keep up. It seemed to go on forever. Her skin trembled and a cold chill ran over her.
Not two minutes after the first one ceased, there was another. The intensity resulted in a small cry of pain.
"Alice?" The midwife walked over to her, putting a hand on her cheek, "How do you feel?"
"I feel cold and hot at the same time."
She nodded, "Could you lay back for me?"
Alice complied and the midwife laid her hands at the bottom of her belly, on her hips. For a moment she simply felt before she gave a smile, "You're almost there, dear, you'll be ready to push soon."
"Push?" Asked the younger woman with some fear in her voice.
"Yes, your body will know what to do."
Alice leaned back upon the pillows for a moment, considering exactly what she'd gotten herself into, "Too late now."