Chapter 9

It was Nelsa Hlaalo, the wife of her landlord, who first noticed. At this point, Lilaena was entering what would be the last month, having effectively hidden her condition the entire time. She had come down to the kitchen to wash a few dishes she'd used the night before, and she made the mistake of instinctively placing a protective hand on her belly without thinking.

"Amaire, dear," the lady of the house called out from her seat at the head of the dining room table, a puzzled expression on her grey features.

Lilaena turned at the sound of her alias, smiling politely.

"Come here, would you? Just for a moment."

Lilaena obliged, still drying last night's dinner plate with a bit of cheesecloth. She sensed she was about to be told something she didn't want to hear. Nelsa Hlaalo had a habit of stating exactly what she thought at any given time. Lilaena supposed the woman believed it to be acceptable given her social status, but she found it quite untoward, especially when the comments usually involved Nelsa expressing some personal opinion about how all Altmer look positively terrible in the color orange or how people from the 'other side of town' should stay there.

"I don't mean to be rude, but have you always had a belly like that? It's quite… round. If I didn't know better, I would assume you were expecting!"

And there it was. Lilaena knew that it wouldn't be long before there would be no denying the truth. One can't easily explain away or hide a squalling infant. She sighed, not knowing how Mrs. Hlaalo might react to her admission. She fabricated an explanation about the child belonging to her long-lost husband, and told the woman she'd had no idea of its existence until after she'd arrived in Balmora.

At first, Mrs. Hlaalo seemed displeased, admonishing Lilaena that she wouldn't be allowed to bring a baby into the manor under any circumstances. It would disrupt the household too much, she insisted, and keep everyone up all night.

Tears welled up in Lilaena's eyes. "But I have nowhere else to go," she replied quietly, wishing she hadn't admitted to anything. She stared down at her netch leather boots, the battered toecaps of which were now just visible past her midsection.

Seeing that her tenant was quite upset must have awakened whatever traces of empathy dwelled in Nelsa's normally cold and snobbish heart. She suddenly became concerned about the child's welfare and insisted that Lilaena see her personal healer in neighboring Suran immediately. Lilaena agreed, praying that this abrupt change of heart would see her continuing to have a place to live.

Mrs. Hlaalo accompanied Lilaena on the trip by stilt strider to Suran. During the journey, which took around five hours, she repeated several times that she couldn't imagine bringing an infant into her quiet and peaceful home. However, she also added that her husband owned some rental flats on the other side of the Odai River, in the poorer part of Balmora, and that perhaps she might persuade him to allow Lilaena and the child to reside in one. Lilaena rather hoped so. She didn't mind the idea of living in the working class section so much as she relished the prospect of having a place of her own, as opposed to just renting a room in someone else's house.

The healer, a brusque, older Dark Elf, quickly set about poking and prodding Lilaena all over and asking many questions, some of which seemed more than a little intrusive, about her past – the number of previous lovers she'd had, was she carrying any contagious diseases and so on. Lilaena didn't mind answering honestly, as at least in this aspect, she felt she had nothing to hide. Yes, she was certain as to who was the father. No, she hadn't been promiscuous, nor had she ever contracted any sort of disease. The baby seemed to be quite active, and appeared to be growing as it should. She felt a twinge of guilt when he asked her why she'd waited so long to see someone when the health of her child may have depended on it. She shrugged and admitted sheepishly that she'd been afraid of losing her job and her home. Fortunately, the healer found nothing amiss with Lilaena or her little companion, and sent her on her way with instructions to contact a midwife associate of his in Balmora when the time came for the child to arrive.

Feeling relieved and a bit more confident, Lilaena rejoined Mrs. Hlaalo and the two embarked on the long trip back. The swaying motion of the stilt strider as the enormous, spindly arthropod made its way across the island threatened to lull Lilaena to sleep. The only thing keeping her alert was the nagging worry as to what Mr. Hlaalo's reaction would be to the news of her condition. He had always treated her well, but such a revelation might bring out a side of him she hadn't encountered.

As it turned out, Belvyn Hlaalo was actually far more sympathetic to Lilaena's plight than his wife had been. She suspected he'd taken a liking to her during her time as their tenant, and he had mentioned his admiration for her quiet, hardworking manner. He cheerfully offered to allow her to stay in one of the dwellings he owned on the other side of the river, provided she would assist him in maintaining and renting out the rest. Lilaena couldn't believe her good fortune and immediately agreed to the arrangement. If she did a good enough job of it, Belvyn proposed, he'd even consider paying her a small stipend so she wouldn't have to leave the child to work elsewhere. Lilaena was so overjoyed at the offer that she reflexively threw her arms around the scrawny old mer and hugged him tightly.

Over the next few weeks, she took her time moving what few belongings she had to the new flat. She announced her intention to leave her position at the Grandmaster's Platter, explaining, much to the owner's surprise, that she'd been expecting the entire time. He'd never even suspected it.

Her first night in the new place was rather interesting. In stark contrast to the peaceful, cozy evenings she'd spent in her room upstairs at the Hlaalo manor, she could hear a wide variety of noises in this flat. Her next door neighbors, a couple of Khajit, seemed to have a constant stream of guests coming and going at all hours. A loud argument punctuated by breaking glass bottles erupted between a gaggle of drunken Dark Elves in the alley beneath her windows, and rats scurried up and down the flagstones outside, constantly reminding her of their unsettling presence. Lilaena peered out of her window at the rats and the rowdy Dunmer and sighed. How had she gone so quickly from from studying at the most prestigious magical academy in Tamriel, to this? Her little companion must have been able to tell that its mum was uneasy because it seemed to want to stay up all night, executing all manner of acrobatics in her belly. Tiny knees and elbows poked into her guts and small feet pushed against her ribcage, causing the baby's head to bounce off her bladder. No matter what she did, the child wouldn't be still. Lilaena had recently decided she'd had quite enough of this pregnancy experience, and this just reinforced the thought. She hoped it would soon be over. As she lay there in the unfamiliar bedroom, her mind wandered back to the same place it always wanted to go during idle moments – the unknown state and whereabouts of her child's errant father. Although she still missed him terribly, she found some comfort in convincing herself that in the form of their child, he was somehow still with her. This baby was a part of him that she could physically hold and talk to and love.

Awaking from a fitful sleep just as the sun rose, Lilaena decided she would go for a walk. She felt antsy and uncomfortable and wanted to stretch her legs. First, she wandered round the neighborhood into which she'd just relocated, investigating the side streets and alleyways. She forced herself to climb up and down the stilt strider platform a couple of times for exercise, and then made her way over to the shops on the other side of the Odai River. All the while, she calmly ignored the mild twinges that came and went at random in her abdomen, as she'd been experiencing them for weeks. However, as she left the apothecary after browsing for a time, she noted that the twinges were becoming a bit more pronounced. Not being one to overdramatize, she continued her errands in spite of the increasing discomfort. She even stopped for a meal and some impromptu socializing at the Grandmaster's Platter, enjoying the company of the servers and cooks she'd come to know during her employment.

By the time she returned to her flat, it was late afternoon. Sitting in the stillness of her empty dwelling, the intensity of the twinges became much more apparent to her. They were certainly no longer what she would consider 'mild'. She deliberated for quite a while as to whether or not she might be overreacting, but finally decided she should probably notify the midwife. The pains were starting to take her breath away and make her sweat.