"How is Theseus?" Galatea asked when Megara returned.
"Not the most important thing right now, but he's worried about you," Megara assured her. She tied her hair up and out of the way as she approached the bedside. "Tell me how you're feeling."
Galatea bit her lip. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"That bad? Listen, there's no shame in admitting it hurts because it does. Where do you feel your baby right now?"
"Ugh, everywhere?"
"I mean… the position. We will have to check constantly because it could change." Megara glanced around to the others for help, and Medusa stepped up.
"Oh, don't touch it. That'll make it worse!"
"Remember when it was me, and you were there to help me? You made me feel better. I never leave my debts unpaid."
Throughout the first stage of her labor, Galatea received the encouragement of her friends. They stroked her hair and perfumed her hair with calming oils. Their voices mingled into a steady stream of praise and affection, though it didn't stop Galatea from crying out the name of her beloved Theseus when the pain climaxed.
Megara glanced at the door, but no sign of Theseus darkened the doorframe. It was a great shame on him, but she would take his place for this woman who had become her sister.
At last, Megara invoked the goddesses who helped her, praying, "Rhea and Hera, mothers in heaven, please bring comfort and vitality to my friend. Aphrodite, creatrix of Galatea, grant her peace in affliction."
Rosy-fingered light filtered through the windows, illuminating the strained features of the woman who had once been made of clay. The light seemed to shine through her entire body, and then her emerald eyes widened. "I have to be the dumbest statue maiden in the world!" she exclaimed.
"Was there competition?" Megara queried, sweating and sore from how many times she had assisted her friend in rolling over into new positions or bracing herself.
Galatea was not in a position to appreciate the joke. She closed her eyes, and suddenly, a look of calm overcame her features. She smiled. "I have one advantage over the rest of you. The goddesses have reminded me. Just because I am a real human being doesn't mean I've lost all my powers."
Megara searched the eyes of Medusa and Tempest for understanding, not even hoping she'd find some with Helen or Eurydice.
"Watch this!" Galatea exclaimed, reinvigorated by her discovery. The next time her belly convulsed, Galatea warped the shape of it in a way that alarmed all onlookers. She took advantage of her malleable body to push out the child so quickly that Megara had to scramble to catch the slippery red creature in a towel.
Screaming in her hands was a young boy, Theseus's royal heir. His hair was plastered to his brow, but it was clear he favored his mother.
"What a healthy boy," Megara crooned. She eyed Galatea and the pride in her exhausted face. "Look what you've done. You've ensured the line of Theseus. He'd better get you a bigger crown with more sparkles."
"Oh! We know a good jeweler who could help you with the crown expansion!" Helen exclaimed.
"Good gods, Helen, it was a joke," Megara groaned.
"What shall you name this weakling?" Tempest asked.
"Weakling? What's wrong with him?" Galatea asked.
"Well, he's a boy!" Tempest explained. "He'll always be inferior with a sword!"
Megara rolled her eyes. "In this room, the baby is the only person who needs to do any shouting. We'll not be heaping any shame on his head when he's only just arrived among us." She placed the baby on Galatea's chest, and only then did she relax.
The worst of it was over.
"You're probably the luckiest woman alive, you know," Megara told Galatea. "You'll never have to be afraid of this again. You could probably blink the next one out of you."
"You know what? You're probably right!" Galatea rubbed her son's back and sighed in relief. "I'm the luckiest girl in the world. I have a great husband, I'm a queen, and I have a wonderful group of friends who are all here for me when I need you. I can't imagine a better life…" Tears erupted as she gazed around the room. "Every single one of you has made my life better. I'm never going to forget how lucky I am to know all of you."
Megara squeezed her shoulder. "We're fortunate that you chose to be our friends, too. No matter the situation, you've always been able to turn it around for good. I know your son is fortunate, as well. You're going to be an amazing mother."
It made her wonder if Harmonia was quite as lucky to have her. Obviously, Harmonia and Megara were inextricably linked, with so much of the girl originating in her mother. But she couldn't help but doubt herself, even now. One day, and it would be soon, she'd find herself preparing for a second birth.
Could she possibly cram enough love and attention into that time to make it up to Harmonia? Would the girl resent the sibling that was soon to emerge into the world? Could she keep up with the needs of a growing child while growing another child within her?
"You have the look in your eyes of a woman who's already fighting tomorrow's battles!" Tempest said. "Steady yourself, woman. We can only aim at the enemy's throat when he's standing in front of us!"
Megara made a face at the bizarre turn of phrase, but it wasn't without merit. She nodded. "I do that a lot."
"Save your energy. You should never blind yourself to the enemy in front of you with one you imagine for yourself."
"Please tell me you have less violent metaphors and scenarios," Eurydice said.
"Why? Do you want me to lie?"
Eurydice hung her head, but then she brightened. "Do you hear that music downstairs? Orpheus is playing, and there's a party! Who will go make the announcement?"
In spite of all the music and laughter from below, Megara heard the telltale plaintive cry of Harmonia calling, "Ma-maa!"
The sympathetic response began at once at her daughter's voice. Megara's body oriented toward the door, and her milk stirred, ready for however much the girl would need. "It will be me," she said. She dipped her arms into ashy water to clean them, dried them on a linen towel, and then hurried down the stairs.