"Take a deep breath, my lady. Now, push”.
She gasped and squirmed. Pallor had taken her face, while the beads of sweat trickled down her forehead and slid down to the chin, mingling with tears on the way. She closed her eyes and wrung the hands on the sheets before obeying the midwife.
An immense wave of pain went through her body, ripping out a muffled scream. She felt something between her legs, and it did not seem to be the midwife's hands.
"Once more, do not stop now. Courage!”
With difficulty, she took another deep breath. It was as if someone was stealing the air from her and, with it, the little energy she had left.
This time the scream was less controlled, as the whole body contracted with strenght she thought no longer existed in herself. And, finally, something slid from within her.
Leaning on trembling elbows, resisting lying down on the back on the bed, she tried to see over the bent knees. Someone had put a cloth on them, which prevented her from looking between the legs. The midwife took a pair of scissors and cut something.
“My ... my baby?” she murmured. The tone was weak, imploring. “How… how is it?”
The midwife looked up.
"Lady Kalëni, now you can rest ..."
“My baby?!” She let out a sob, staring at her almost desperately. That was the emotion which still held her in that position, expectant and, at the same time, fearful.
The other woman did not respond right away, returning to what she was doing. Kalëni wanted to get up and take the child in her arms, she wanted to see them, to feel them, to hug them before it becomes impossible. However, she felt that if she moved much more, the body would not hold. Even her sight was starting to falter, swaying between the clear and hazy. In fact, she was not even sure she could keep herself alive.
After a few minutes, she saw the midwife smile a little, with a faint relief softening her expression.
"He's a boy and he's alive," she said, picking up a small being and wrapping it in a woolen shawl. The winter chill got inside through the cracks of the underground city, trying to freeze the houses. Not far from the bed, a hearth tried to fight it while lighting up part of the room.
When the little one was taken to her side, the young woman peered at him, with a craving tightening on her chest. Despite the blood that still stained him, the little face, with closed eyes, was extremely pale. She could see the hesitation of the midwife now. In another child, he might have been confused with a dead body. A few strands of black hair appeared on his head, and his ears with pointed ends were the same as her own. A little half-elf ... her little half-elf.
She smiled and dropped back. She inhaled and breathed out. Her eyelids threatened to close, but she did not allow them to do so. Not yet. Kalëni stretched out her shaking arms and, with great care, took the child, pressing it to her chest. She bit her lower lip, preventing it from trembling. The baby was serene, breathing lightly, and she would not disturb him with her own crying or the sorrow that undermined her chest. He deserved more than that. She let a finger slide down his cheek, in a tender touch. His soft skin offered a strange coldness, possibly inherited from his father.
"My little Ayalal," she murmured, offering him a kiss on the forehead.
No comments:
Post a Comment