Hello all.
I've basically been on hiatus because I have to focus on my studies. And I've felt very disappointed in myself, and lacking confidence in my writing I guess...
But this idea wouldn't leave me alone.
Chapter 30 - Push
Astrid was soaking wet, despite the chill in the candlelit darkness. Her nightgown, damp and clammy and heavy with perspiration, clung to her body as if it were just another layer of skin.
Her legs shuddered and quivered, overtaken by consuming fever. When she looked down, she could see the goosebumps blooming upon her thighs – but she could not feel the chills. She could hardly feel the air in her lungs. Her other sensations were numbed by the stabbing ache, the hot dizziness that overthrew her and cramped her muscles.
The irony of it all was unnerving. Astrid Hofferson, always so strong and steady, faltering in a moment like this when her strength was of utmost importance.
"I can't do this," she breathed, her voice as unsteady as her legs. "It's too big... I can't do this! It's too big." Astrid gasped strenuously, drained. "I can't, Hiccup. I'm so sorry, babe."
"You're fine," he assured her, voice barely above a whisper. "We can do this. You can do this." His hands ran across the length of her back, from bottom to top, catching her loose hair and smoothly twisting it into a bun. Astrid welcomed the cool air on her neck, the massage on her scalp.
Another jab of pain twisted her features. This was impossible. How could a baby possibly fit through her?
Rain and wind battled against the wooden walls of the household, just as Astrid battled against her own body. Her wails and sobs softly cut across the sound of the pouring elements, a pitying plea to the Gods to ease her suffering. But her prayers went unanswered. Her legs faltered; Hiccup caught her, ever so gently. She wanted to melt into his arms, to disappear from the world and hide from the grinding agony.
But the feeling of his frame, strong and steady as he kept her standing, felt more solid and reassuring than the wooden wall she had been pressing up against. He was warm and real. He was there for her. Always.
She pushed again, leaning into him. But it hurt so much. She could feel the ache rising once more. When it crested, it tore her from the inside, as if every bit of bone and flesh in her body twisted and squeezed against sharp blades. And it never quite subsided; it merely dulled down to a horrible cramp.
"Be calm, child. Control your breathing. Don't fight the pain. Accept it." Valka hurried to her side, placing a gentle, cool hand on the young woman's feverishly hot forehead. "You've been up to long. She needs the bed. Now."
"I'm going with her," said Hiccup, green eyes tired yet sharp. There was no contesting this. He lay on the bed against the headboard, arms and legs parted, cocooning Astrid in his embrace. He rocked back and forth with her, gently, his chin rested behind her ear as he whispered words of encouragement. This eased the pain on her lower back, but her insides still burned.
"Better?" He asked, when he felt her gasps for air had finally resumed to a steady cadence.
Something akin to a chuckle replaced an incoming sob. "Define… better."
Hiccup kissed her ear. Her hands squeezed his, impossibly tight. His thumbs circled the backs of her hands, something he always did when he wanted to calm her. "That's better. Now, Milady… you've got to push."
Astrid almost hesitated. But Hiccup kissed her temple, the crown of her head... the pain in her soul. So she pushed. Her voice cracked; a drawn-out whine filled the air, an ancient song sung since immemorial ages by every woman who has ever given birth. Her lip quivered and her legs tensed, every single muscle focused on one purpose. She pushed so hard she thought her heart would stop.
She had been at it for hours, soon after her waters broke. While at first Astrid tackled the initial contractions with a controlled expression and calm voice, the growing pain and the strain had made it increasingly more difficult. It took her a while to understand how she had to push; then, she couldn't find a position that felt right. She had squatted, she had kneeled, she had roamed every single corner of her household. But the baby still hadn't come.
Maybe it never would…
Valka massaged her calves as she spoke. "Push, my dear. Push!" But Astrid felt as if the more she pushed, the more her strength seemed to leave her. Almost as if she wasn't pushing a new life into this world… but her own into the next.
She was so tired.
Gentle hands brushed the hair off her eyes and pressed a wet towel against her brow, her cheeks, her neck and chest. It seemed to be her mother, humming softly as she used to do whenever Astrid fell ill as a child.
Astrid pushed again, gasping for air. She dreaded that every breath she drew would be her last. And she knew – nobody would speak it aloud near her, but the looks on their faces were enough to tell – they dreaded this as well.
She felt a little weaker. A little sleepier.
Hiccup squeezed her hands now, because her own grip had slackened. He was the one rocking now. Her body went along with his, limp and beat.
The midwife's voice sounded void, distant. Astrid vaguely noted the woman's prying fingers inside her, and she could almost see the woman shake her head. "She isn't dilated enough. She's lost too much blood already."
Yes… Blood. On her thighs, on her once-white night gown, on her forearms and Hiccup's hands, on the floorboard and on the wood of their bed. It wasn't even warm now. It just felt cold, like grime atop a foamy sea.
She could no longer hear the rain and wind. She could barely make out the voices. Even Hiccup's sounded more like a distant echo.
"Astrid. Hey, come on. Please."
Astrid's eyelids drooped as she slanted back against Hiccup's chest. It reverberated with his supplications; although she could barely make out the words, the vibration was so soothing.
"Open your eyes. Wake up."
If only she could breathe him in rather than the sour scent that clung to the air. If she had to die, she would rather leave this world with a sweet last memory tattooed in her soul…
"Astrid! Come on, you're so close!"
She wished she could kiss that spot between his shoulder blades one last time, or stroke his jaw with her fingers. She wished she could feel his skin on her lips again, or the salt of it on her tongue.
"Please don't. Please don't leave me… please don't!"
She would miss him. And she would miss the wind against her hair; the light of the dawning sun warm on her skin; his palm rested on her growing belly, feeling the kicks of a baby they would never meet. But she was so tired and her body was so light, so detached…
At least she could feel his heart pressed up to her back, beating so desperately as her own seemed to slow down.
"…please…"
His voice rang in her ear from somewhere far away now, but his eyes were so close – green as the vivid colour of Spring, so lively yet filled with dismay. She didn't want him to worry. She didn't want leave him to live in disquiet.
She thought of the other family's small baby that had died so recently, and the agony of the parents over the loss of their one child. Hiccup would be in agony, too.
Panic gripped her.
She could not lose her child at birth. She couldn't do that to Hiccup. They'd wanted this baby so badly… so, so badly. Tears blurred her vision. She couldn't tell if they were hers, or Hiccup's.
She heard his voice again. "Don't go…"
Out of fear, or anger, or stress or pain or perhaps a blend of all of them, every fibre in her body screamed.
She felt more alive than ever.
Thor himself could not wield the energy coursing through her, from the ends of her hair to the tips of her toes, shocking her heart back into a wild beat. Her eyes were blinded to anything else but him. The dull brown of the ceiling, pierced by the solid green staring down at her, were all she could see.
This child had better have his eyes.
One last push.
It was like a mountain marching through a window made of breaking glass. Astrid felt every pull, every stretch, every tear, all the pressure leading down to this one moment.
And it was over. The sudden absence of pain, if only for a few seconds, was surprising and ecstatic, akin to the outburst of release.
Everything went still. Absolute silence reigned. A minute, or maybe years, passed with that typical, languorous stride. Time always makes sure to go by slowly when you're anxious and expectant.
Then the cry, sharp and strong and undoubtedly full of life, seemed to click the world back into place. Astrid heard her child's voice for the very first time and she instantly, immediately, infinitely fell in love all over again. She pushed herself up with Hiccup's help, eyes searching frantically for her little bundle, hands and arms outstretched and shaking with adrenaline.
"You did it," she heard Hiccup breathe, his voice no longer fuzzy and distant. He sounded mesmerized, astounded, incredulous. Relieved. "You did it. You did it!"
Valka handed the baby over, eyes brimming, her smile genuinely elated. "We need to tend to you, dear. You fainted and you're still frail, but… you should meet your daughter."
The weight in Astrid's arms was the final proof: they had made it. The child lived, and she was beautiful: soft and pink, a heavy baby with wispy red fuzz on her head, who whimpered softly with her mouth open. "We made it, Hiccup… Look at her…" Her entire being seemed weighed down, exhausted but thrilled.
Hiccup wrapped his arms around her and their baby, his head lightly resting on Astrid's shoulder as he kissed his wife's neck over and over and over again.
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
I don't know if people would be interested in me uploading more of my small headcanons/drabbles? (those I could upload sometime soon, since I doubt I'll be updating anything until at least October)
Also, I have a whole bunch of them on Stoick, Valka and Gobber and I was wondering if anyone here is interested in reading those, or not?
Thank you to all the kind souls who do take a moment to review . You keep me going, seriously.