AN: Thanks everyone for the awesome reviews and favorites on this story. :) Makes me so happy to see that people like it. XO -MSS
BlueLion: Thank you for your kind comment! I pride myself on being fairly adept with grammar and such, so that made me smile a lot.
Chapter 4
By mid-November, winter had started in earnest. People darted about the villages and through the city center on horse-drawn sleighs, bells jingling merrily and happy voices calling. The castle was decorated early for Jul. Everyone knew the baby was due right around Christmastime, and in honor of the soon-to-be-born heir, the decorations were the most extravagant the kingdom had seen in years.
No one but Agnarr, Iduna, a few maids and the doctor knew that the baby was a girl and already had a name. The maids had been let in on it because they were helping to decorate the baby's nursery, and Iduna had requested varying shades of purple and pink, accented with gold and sea foam green. The queen spent many happy hours just sitting in her daughter's nursery, day dreaming. Even the baby herself seemed at peace in the room; rarely did she kick when Iduna was in there and never once did Iduna have an episode while sitting in the nursery. She took that as a good omen.
"Are you anxious, my Queen?" Asked one of the maids one day in December as she helped brush out Queen Iduna's long, beautiful hair.
"Anxious about the child?"
"Yes. The waiting was the hardest part for me," the maid confessed. Iduna was such a kind queen that she allowed her servants to converse somewhat freely with her in private. "I didn't know when the labor pains would start and I was on edge for so many days."
Queen Iduna smiled. She knew that Tove, the maid, had two children — a boy and a girl. The younger one was just over three years old now. The queen had allowed Tove to bring her two children to the midsummer festival on the castle grounds just the past year. The little boy was quiet and somber, with big brown eyes just like his mother's. The little girl was vivacious and energetic with light brown curls and the same big eyes as her brother.
"I don't have a need to be anxious," Iduna confessed. "I know just about when my child's birth day will be. The old witch told me the child would be born almost a year to the day of my wedding anniversary."
The maid gasped. "December nineteenth is your wedding anniversary!"
"That's right. So by my guess, the child's birthday will be either the seventeenth, eighteenth, twentieth or twenty-first. Since the witch said nearly a year to the day, not on the day. That means she could be born as soon as four days from now!"
The realization that it was indeed December thirteenth already struck Iduna like a bolt of lightning. She felt butterflies burst to life in her tummy. The adrenaline rush must have alerted the baby, as she immediately began moving and poking her elbows and knees into Iduna's ribs and lungs.
"Are you nervous about the birth, Your Majesty?" Tove asked, winding the queen's hair into a long braid.
Queen Iduna wrung her hands together. "A bit," she admitted. "If the pregnancy has been any indication, the birth will not be easy. I admit I'm a bit afraid of… of…" She let the sentence hang in the air, unsure of whether or not she should continue.
"Afraid of what, Your Majesty?" Tove pried gently. She had worked for the royal family for long enough to know that if Queen Iduna didn't want to say anything, she wouldn't have started that train of thought at all. She began wordlessly twisting the queen's long braid into an elegant bun at the back of her head.
"Tove, can I tell you something in confidence?" The queen turned around before Tove could finish the hairstyle, the braid falling loose from the bun and dropping down over her left shoulder. "You must tell no one — not even His Majesty. Especially not His Majesty."
Tove nodded silently.
"When I went to see the old witch, she told me my body wasn't meant to bear children. She told me she harnessed the power of the snow to ensure that the pregnancy would take and hold. She told me… she told me that when someone asks such a favor of the fates that there's a price to pay." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "The old witch gave me a verse to say and it warned that, in order to produce an heir, that I would pay with my life."
Tove's hands flew to her mouth and she gasped.
The queen's beautiful blue eyes brimmed with tears. "It said that the time when my daughter needs me the most will be when my life will end. I don't know when that will be," the queen all but wailed. "It could be at the time of her birth or any time after!"
The maid leaned against the vanity in front of which the queen sat. "And His Majesty doesn't know about this?"
"He knows about the verse and the witch but he doesn't know about that part of the prophecy," Iduna said sadly. "I couldn't bring myself to tell him. The snow powers were hard enough to come to terms with, I just couldn't…"
After a half minute pause, Tove said, "Your Majesty, if I may give you my take on it…"
"Please."
Taking a liberty, Tove placed her hand on the queen's shoulder. "Everyone is going to die one day, My Queen. Unless a person plans to expedite that process on their own, no one can ever really know when they'll die. It's entirely possible that you could die in childbirth, not because of the prophecy but because birthing children is dangerous. Your daughter will need you as long as she lives, so to say that you'll die at the time when she needs you most isn't really saying much." Tove thought for another few seconds. "To me, the prophecy isn't saying anything a person doesn't already know. You are the queen of the kingdom, everyone will always need you. Living forever is impossible, though."
Queen Iduna had never thought of it that way before. Tove's words were wise and calmed her heart. As heir to the throne, it was unlikely that the time the little princess would need her mother the very most was the hour of her birth. Surely much more stressful and challenging times lay ahead of the young monarch.
"You are right, Tove," Iduna smiled at her maid. "I am so glad I confided in you. Thank you."
"You're most welcome, Your Majesty. Now. Let's finish getting you ready for breakfast. King Agnarr will be waiting. And, after all, you won't have many more meals together for just the two of you, if you know what I mean!"
—
The mornings of December seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth dawned clear and cold. The sun shone down strong, but cast no warmth on the kingdom. Queen Iduna had begun to feel a connection and familiarity with the weather and each of those mornings she knew deep within herself that the child would not come that day.
When she awoke on the morning of December twenty-first, she pushed the covers off and immediately padded over to the window. She pulled the curtains aside and her breath caught in her chest, for she knew instantly that this would be her child's birth day. Gray, swirling clouds hung ominously over the land, as though gathering their strength to unleash their power.
In an instant, two things happened. The first thing was that the queen felt a massive gush of liquid burst forth from her body, cascading down her legs and puddling on the floor under her nightdress. The second thing that happened was that the sky opened up, snow began swirling and the wind positively howled.
"Agnarr!" Iduna cried weakly, gripping the window ledge. "Wake up!"
The king sat up abruptly. "Wh-what's going on?" His eyes were bleary with sleep and his hair stuck up at odd angles.
"Get the doctor."
Queen Iduna had never seen her husband move so fast.
The doctor arrived within minutes, although the queen could have sworn an hour or more had passed. Pains had begun abruptly, one after the other, causing the queen to cry out and it took all the strength she had just to crawl back onto the bed. The doctor checked the queen over quickly, using a stethoscope to listen to her heart and lungs.
"No obvious signs of infection," Doctor Larsen stated. "This is good."
"Very good," Agnarr agreed nervously.
When the doctor laid the stethoscope on Iduna's belly, it jumped visibly and the doctor winced as the sound no doubt assaulted his ear drums. "Baby appears to be doing fine, as well," the doctor quickly removed the earpieces.
Pulling King Agnarr aside, the doctor whispered, "Your Majesty, I'm afraid I'm not sure how to proceed. Given the fact that this hasn't been a typical pregnancy, I daresay it's unlikely that it'll be a typical birth, either."
Iduna let out a low-pitched moan from the bed, causing both men to snap their heads in her direction.
"Will she be all right?" The king asked, an unusual amount of worry evident in his green eyes.
"I should think so, Your Majesty," Doctor Larsen assured. "Females of all species, save for one or two, have been bearing children since the dawn of time. Her Majesty is strong. I see no reason why she won't be able to do as her mother before her and her mother before her, and so on."
Agnarr glanced at his beloved wife, curled around her swollen belly, her face twisted in pain. "The witch said the baby would be queen, but that doesn't mean Iduna will survive childbirth. It only means the baby will." The King of Arendelle was teetering on the edge of a panic attack, and he didn't even know the full extent of the prophecy; Iduna had never told him the rest.
At exactly that moment, the midwife burst through the chamber doors, having been summoned just after the doctor. A portly, compassionate woman, Turid had attended births in the kingdom for over twenty years. She was the best in the village, or so Agnarr had been told. So he had hired her to attend the royal birth and it appeared she had been waiting on pins and needles for word that the queen was in labor.
Turid bustled in and made a beeline for the bed.
"There, there, Your Majesty, it'll all be all right. Let's have a look at you, shall we?" Turid lifted the bottom of Iduna's nightdress and slid her hand beneath the fabric.
Unused to anyone (except the doctor, of course) touching his wife without express permission, Agnarr started to speak but caught himself. Of course the midwife would have to examine that part of Iduna's body. He almost chucked at his own foolishness. Where else would the baby come from?
For her part, Iduna didn't even bat an eye when Turid began to examine her.
"Ah," Turid smiled. "You're doing very well, Your Majesty. Progressing nicely." She glanced out the window at the mounting storm. "My, what a tempest."
Queen Iduna grabbed Turid's hand. "Listen to me," she begged. "This baby…"
"There's something special about this baby," Turid finished, patting the queen's hand.
Iduna blinked in surprise. "H-how did you know?"
The woman smiled. "I've been at this a long time, my dear — please forgive me for calling you that, Your Majesty — and I can tell. Magic? No matter. You needn't tell me. I'm here to deliver you a baby and no more."
"Magic," Iduna whispered, falling back onto the pillows. "She's magic."
"She? Bless my soul, a little princess!" Turid clapped her hands in delight just as another intense pain gripped the queen and she shrieked along with the wind. Turid bustled over to the king. "Your Majesty, I cannot forbid you to remain in the room but I must warn you that childbirth is not for the faint of heart. It is your decision whether or not you want to stay, but—"
"—I'm staying," Agnarr interrupted.
"Very well then."
And as the storm continued to gather strength outside, the queen's contractions also gathered strength and intensity. The minutes ticked by agonizingly slowly for the king. To the queen, however, time had ceased to exist. Each wave piggy-backed on the last, throwing her end over end in an ocean of pain. She was aware of very little except Turid's kind blue eyes, the din of the storm and the feeling of being ripped in two from the bottom of her pelvis upwards.
"I can't!" She cried out at one point. "I can't do it!"
"When you get to the point of saying that, Your Majesty, it means that you're almost there," Turid said kindly. She quickly felt beneath the queen's bedclothes again. "It's time to get this nightdress pulled up, My Queen. Your daughter will be here shortly."
Even in all their years of wedded bliss, King Agnarr had never seen his wife's body displayed so openly. With her nightdress bunched up above the swell of her belly, her whole lower half was completely exposed. Despite the spasming of her stomach as her body prepared to bring a child into the world (the fact that this was a feat it was never supposed to perform did not escape Agnarr, adding to his anxiety about the whole thing) and the ashen color of her face, he still thought his wife to be the most lovely person he'd ever laid eyes on.
"What's happening?" Iduna gasped as her belly suddenly became misshapen. The end of her question turned into a strangled scream of pain.
Turid laid her soft, warm hand on the queen's belly. "That's your body pushing without permission, love. It's time to push. Your body is ready."
Iduna's blue eyes became wide with fear. "No.. I-I can't.. I'm not ready!"
Grasping the queen's shaking hands in hers, Turid looked her square in the eye. "You are."
AN: whoops, sorry for the cliffy. See you next time! ;)