This had been going on for hours, and he'd been with her at first, even lowered her into the pool in the hope it would help but it hadn't done, not really, and then the pains had got worse and he was exhausted... and so was she and that worried him. She was young, strong, Dragonborn, she should be giving birth by now, surely? Keirine had said all was well, she was fully dilated, so where was the baby?
Madanach didn't want to think about it, if he was honest. Keirine, Sabrinda and Eola between them had this in hand, right? Right?
Then Eola ran out of the room, blood staining the front of that healer's robe she'd changed into, snapping at Cicero to get over there and taking that odd stamina booster ring off him before dashing back in, and Cicero had come back pale and shaking all over, and Madanach's fear had turned to terror... and he couldn't feel Liriel any more.
“Something's wrong,” he whispered. “I need to get in there, need to help, something's wrong!”
He tried to get up and promptly collapsed, his body long ago having given up any attempt at pretending it was anything other than that of a sixty-one year old man who'd been up for over sixteen hours. Fortunately Borkul caught him and then he and Nepos were hauling Madanach back onto his chair.
“Madanach, you are in no state to do anything and there's nothing you could do even if you were,” Nepos said firmly. “Now sit down – Keirine has done this a hundred times.”
“Liriel hasn't,” Madanach whispered, trying to reach out to her but he couldn't feel her, why couldn't he feel her??
“Reach-King. Madanach. Brother, Cicero is scared,” Cicero whispered, clearly still well and truly linked to Eola and no, no, this wasn't happening, Eola was never scared, Eola feared nothing.
Madanach pulled Cicero into his arms and clung on to the terrified jester, wanting to feel someone there, someone with their arms around him, and Cicero was all he had. Neither Nepos or Borkul did cuddling, but Cicero now, Cicero would drape himself over anyone.
Cicero was huddled next to him now, wide-eyed and frightened, and Madanach could do nothing.
“She's going to be all right,” Madanach said firmly. “She has to be, doesn't she know I need her?”
“What if Mother wants her more?” Cicero whispered. “What if she is angry with the Listener? What then?”
“It won't happen,” Madanach said firmly. “It won't!”
But he couldn't feel her, and that scared him more than anything. Not dead... but where was she?
The door to the bedroom flung open and footsteps strode out. Not Eola. Not Keirine either, and then every other thought flew out of his head as he heard what they'd all been waiting for. The sound of a baby crying.
“Liriel,” Madanach whispered and Cicero had got up, fleeing towards the birthing chamber, darting right past the figure who'd emerged, all thoughts on his Listener.
“Hey!” Sabrinda cried. “Matriarch Keirine said no one allowed in there – oh for Auriel's sake, fine, risk the wrath of the most dangerous Hagraven in the country, see if I care.”
Madanach was quite inclined to let Cicero get on with it. All his attention was on the crying, fussing bundle in Sabrinda's arms. Thalmor robes long gone, the ex-Justiciar turned Knight-Paladin was wearing a simple orange priest robe and cradling in her arms her latest grandchild – not her first but the first she'd actually met.
“Is that...?” he whispered. Sabrinda tore her eyes away from the infant long enough to meet his, and for once, she actually looked pleased to see him.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, it is. I've got a grandson, Madanach!”
Somehow Madanach found the energy to stagger over, holding out his arms as Sabrinda carefully handed the baby over – his son. His newborn son, and as Madanach pulled the blankets back, he could feel tears in his eyes. He was absolutely beautiful, golden skin and red hair like Liriel's but rounder features, much like a human's and possibly he'd look a bit more Elven later but right now, he didn't look much different from a human baby... apart from the ears. He had the ears. Sithis be praised, he had the ears.
Re: Thicker Than Blood 14.10
Madanach didn't want to think about it, if he was honest. Keirine, Sabrinda and Eola between them had this in hand, right? Right?
Then Eola ran out of the room, blood staining the front of that healer's robe she'd changed into, snapping at Cicero to get over there and taking that odd stamina booster ring off him before dashing back in, and Cicero had come back pale and shaking all over, and Madanach's fear had turned to terror... and he couldn't feel Liriel any more.
“Something's wrong,” he whispered. “I need to get in there, need to help, something's wrong!”
He tried to get up and promptly collapsed, his body long ago having given up any attempt at pretending it was anything other than that of a sixty-one year old man who'd been up for over sixteen hours. Fortunately Borkul caught him and then he and Nepos were hauling Madanach back onto his chair.
“Madanach, you are in no state to do anything and there's nothing you could do even if you were,” Nepos said firmly. “Now sit down – Keirine has done this a hundred times.”
“Liriel hasn't,” Madanach whispered, trying to reach out to her but he couldn't feel her, why couldn't he feel her??
“Reach-King. Madanach. Brother, Cicero is scared,” Cicero whispered, clearly still well and truly linked to Eola and no, no, this wasn't happening, Eola was never scared, Eola feared nothing.
Madanach pulled Cicero into his arms and clung on to the terrified jester, wanting to feel someone there, someone with their arms around him, and Cicero was all he had. Neither Nepos or Borkul did cuddling, but Cicero now, Cicero would drape himself over anyone.
Cicero was huddled next to him now, wide-eyed and frightened, and Madanach could do nothing.
“She's going to be all right,” Madanach said firmly. “She has to be, doesn't she know I need her?”
“What if Mother wants her more?” Cicero whispered. “What if she is angry with the Listener? What then?”
“It won't happen,” Madanach said firmly. “It won't!”
But he couldn't feel her, and that scared him more than anything. Not dead... but where was she?
The door to the bedroom flung open and footsteps strode out. Not Eola. Not Keirine either, and then every other thought flew out of his head as he heard what they'd all been waiting for. The sound of a baby crying.
“Liriel,” Madanach whispered and Cicero had got up, fleeing towards the birthing chamber, darting right past the figure who'd emerged, all thoughts on his Listener.
“Hey!” Sabrinda cried. “Matriarch Keirine said no one allowed in there – oh for Auriel's sake, fine, risk the wrath of the most dangerous Hagraven in the country, see if I care.”
Madanach was quite inclined to let Cicero get on with it. All his attention was on the crying, fussing bundle in Sabrinda's arms. Thalmor robes long gone, the ex-Justiciar turned Knight-Paladin was wearing a simple orange priest robe and cradling in her arms her latest grandchild – not her first but the first she'd actually met.
“Is that...?” he whispered. Sabrinda tore her eyes away from the infant long enough to meet his, and for once, she actually looked pleased to see him.
“Yes,” she said softly. “Yes, it is. I've got a grandson, Madanach!”
Somehow Madanach found the energy to stagger over, holding out his arms as Sabrinda carefully handed the baby over – his son. His newborn son, and as Madanach pulled the blankets back, he could feel tears in his eyes. He was absolutely beautiful, golden skin and red hair like Liriel's but rounder features, much like a human's and possibly he'd look a bit more Elven later but right now, he didn't look much different from a human baby... apart from the ears. He had the ears. Sithis be praised, he had the ears.