Post by Robin on Jan 16, 2006 19:35:38 GMT -8
I've been working on this for awhile now. It's a fantasy-type story, and it focuses on the man, Phelu. I don't know where it's going, but I like how it's unfolding. Tell me what you think.
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The midwife, Risa’s sister, had been right. The delivery was a difficult one. Risa’s water had broken sometime around midday, and she had been in labor for ten hours, but there was still no sign of the babe. It was not even crowning. Risa’s face was bathed in sweat, and her hair hung in lank strings around her contorted, grimacing, sweaty face. Even the midwife, who had been optimistic during the first five hours, saying that she had seen longer deliveries, was worried looking. She kept biting her bottom lip, and her pretty blue eyes were gray with concern. Phelu sat with his hands twisted up, unsure of how he could help. The midwife, Doesi, had warned him not to try and alleviate her pain until the babe was delivered, simply because they had never tried to heal somebody while they were pregnant before, and both Phelu and Doesi were unsure of the consequences of such an act.
“Ye’ll be okay, Reese,” Doesi said soothingly, stroking her sister’s leg with one cool hand.
“Nay, I willna be,” Risa said, panting. “If the bairn’s not coming out now, it’s never coming out. It’s probably tangled in the umbilical cord and dying.” There was a tinge of bitterness to her voice, exhausted and weak though it was. She was just beginning to catch her breath when another contraction seized her and her back arched, her feet digging into the mattress on the bed and making it creak. She groaned and let out a huge gasp of air, relaxing and digging her fingers into the bed at the same time.
“Ye’ll be okay,” Doesi repeated, although Phelu could hear the doubt in her voice. He hoped that Risa didn’t hear the doubt. He supposed that she didn’t: she was too far gone in her pain to hear much of anything.
“I wish I could do something to help the lass,” Phelu murmured. “But I dinna want to do anything that might harm the bairn.”
“Aye,” Doesi said, glancing wearily at the ceiling. “If this goes on much longer, though, I suppose ye’ll be forced to do something. I don’t know if she can take much more of this.”
Indeed, Phelu could see that Risa was exhausted. Her chest was heaving, her collarbone and cheekbones startlingly prominent in her round face and plump features from her exhaustion. Her breath alternated between high and whistling and guttural and animal-like. As another contraction shook her, to no avail, Doesi cast a soulful glance at Phelu.
“Could ye?” she asked of him. “I dinna want to mar the bairn, but…” she looked hopelessly at the suffering Risa.
“I dinna want to either, Doesi,” Phelu said sadly. “But I canna see another way.”
Sighing resignedly, he reached out a hand and, not knowing where else to put it, set it on her convulsing, bare stomach.
Please work, please work, his thoughts whispered in his mind. And please, don’t let it harm the babe. Just concentrate on getting it out of Risa, concentrate on stopping her pain.
He felt his arm alternating between tingling and numbness, and knew that the powers were working. Risa’s white stomach and Doesi’s pale, anxious face glowed in the dimness of the room, and he closed his eyes. He heard Risa’s breathing slow, begin to normalize, and then a terrible pain gripped his stomach. It felt like a monstrous leg cramp, except it was in his lower abdomen and besides feeling as though if he moved it would be agony, there was a horrible wrenching sensation, as though something was clawing its way out of him. He nearly doubled over from the intensity of it, his own breath whistling in and out painfully from between his clenched teeth. Vaguely, far-away, he heard Doesi call his name, but he paid her no mind. He had to concentrate, or else it wouldn’t work.
After what seemed like an eternity of that tearing, cramping pain in his stomach, he heard the squalls of a baby and took his hand off of Risa’s stomach, opening his eyes slowly. He noticed without much interest that the tips of his fingers were blue, and his arm was tingling madly as circulation was restored to it. The familiar pain at the base of his skull throbbed dully, but he noticed that when he moved his head, the pain strengthened. He smiled wryly to himself and looked up at Doesi and Risa - looked up! He realized that he was on his knees on the ground, bent over like an old man, clutching his stomach with his free right arm.
“Look, Risa,” Doesi was saying, wrapping the newborn in a blanket. “It’s a little boy. And he’s going to have pretty eyes just like Bakar and Phelu have.”
Risa stretched out trembling arms to cradle the baby as Phelu got to his feet, surprised to feel his head erupt into new waves of pain at the movement.
“What will ye name it?” Doesi asked Risa kindly, looking at her sister with tenderness in her eyes, throwing a grateful look at Phelu.
“Aziz,” Risa said fondly, drawing the infant to her in a grip that was both tight and tender. “To be cherished.”
“It’s a fine name,” Doesi said. “Do ye want me to get ye some clean clothes? Yers are dirty.”
“That would be lovely, Doesi,” she said.
“I’ll get them to ye, but first I have to excuse our guest.”
As Doesi took Phelu out of the room, Risa told them to wait.
“Thank ye,” she said. “I’d be in terrible pain if it weren’t for ye,” she said. “It didn’t hurt ye, did it?” she asked.
“No,” Phelu lied, forcing a smile. “It didn’t hurt me at all. Just get ye some rest, alright?”
“Goodbye, Phelu,” she said, smiling down on her son.
“Goodbye, Risa.”
“I have to talk to ye about Risa,” Doesi said.
“Why? What happened?”
“Ye ken her husband, Bakar?”
“Yes…why?”
“He’s dead, Phelu.”
Phelu was silent for a moment. “How?” he said, after awhile.
“How what?”
“How did he die?”
“He died in battle. He was off fighting the wild centaur women of the north, and one of them shot a javelin at him. It hit him in the stomach, and they dragged him off. Even if he’s not dead, he’s as good as. As soon as they can’t use him to…mate anymore, they’ll eat him.” She wiped hurriedly at the tears that were beading in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, unsure of what to say.
“It’s alrigh’, nothing anybody could do at all.” Doesi sniffed and tucked a strand of her curly, sandy hair behind her ears, and then placed her pudgy hands on Phelu’s shoulders.
“Now, did ye get hurt at all when ye helped Risa? Ye looked awfully uncomfortable, and ye don’t look so great right now. Ye’re awful pale.”
“I’m fine,” Phelu said quickly, and Doesi frowned, touched his forehead with the back of her hand.
“Now,” she said. “I don’t ken the ways of ye healers much, but I don’t think that’s supposed to happen. Are ye sure ye’re alright?”
“I’m sure,” Phelu said agitatedly. “And if it bothers ye so much, I’ll go see Bronya. She kens these kinds of things, though she isn’t a healer herself.”
“Alright,” Doesi said. “Ye be careful though, alright? I dinna want ye to injure yerself from helping my sister. Risa doesna want that, either.”
-------
That's all for now.
------
The midwife, Risa’s sister, had been right. The delivery was a difficult one. Risa’s water had broken sometime around midday, and she had been in labor for ten hours, but there was still no sign of the babe. It was not even crowning. Risa’s face was bathed in sweat, and her hair hung in lank strings around her contorted, grimacing, sweaty face. Even the midwife, who had been optimistic during the first five hours, saying that she had seen longer deliveries, was worried looking. She kept biting her bottom lip, and her pretty blue eyes were gray with concern. Phelu sat with his hands twisted up, unsure of how he could help. The midwife, Doesi, had warned him not to try and alleviate her pain until the babe was delivered, simply because they had never tried to heal somebody while they were pregnant before, and both Phelu and Doesi were unsure of the consequences of such an act.
“Ye’ll be okay, Reese,” Doesi said soothingly, stroking her sister’s leg with one cool hand.
“Nay, I willna be,” Risa said, panting. “If the bairn’s not coming out now, it’s never coming out. It’s probably tangled in the umbilical cord and dying.” There was a tinge of bitterness to her voice, exhausted and weak though it was. She was just beginning to catch her breath when another contraction seized her and her back arched, her feet digging into the mattress on the bed and making it creak. She groaned and let out a huge gasp of air, relaxing and digging her fingers into the bed at the same time.
“Ye’ll be okay,” Doesi repeated, although Phelu could hear the doubt in her voice. He hoped that Risa didn’t hear the doubt. He supposed that she didn’t: she was too far gone in her pain to hear much of anything.
“I wish I could do something to help the lass,” Phelu murmured. “But I dinna want to do anything that might harm the bairn.”
“Aye,” Doesi said, glancing wearily at the ceiling. “If this goes on much longer, though, I suppose ye’ll be forced to do something. I don’t know if she can take much more of this.”
Indeed, Phelu could see that Risa was exhausted. Her chest was heaving, her collarbone and cheekbones startlingly prominent in her round face and plump features from her exhaustion. Her breath alternated between high and whistling and guttural and animal-like. As another contraction shook her, to no avail, Doesi cast a soulful glance at Phelu.
“Could ye?” she asked of him. “I dinna want to mar the bairn, but…” she looked hopelessly at the suffering Risa.
“I dinna want to either, Doesi,” Phelu said sadly. “But I canna see another way.”
Sighing resignedly, he reached out a hand and, not knowing where else to put it, set it on her convulsing, bare stomach.
Please work, please work, his thoughts whispered in his mind. And please, don’t let it harm the babe. Just concentrate on getting it out of Risa, concentrate on stopping her pain.
He felt his arm alternating between tingling and numbness, and knew that the powers were working. Risa’s white stomach and Doesi’s pale, anxious face glowed in the dimness of the room, and he closed his eyes. He heard Risa’s breathing slow, begin to normalize, and then a terrible pain gripped his stomach. It felt like a monstrous leg cramp, except it was in his lower abdomen and besides feeling as though if he moved it would be agony, there was a horrible wrenching sensation, as though something was clawing its way out of him. He nearly doubled over from the intensity of it, his own breath whistling in and out painfully from between his clenched teeth. Vaguely, far-away, he heard Doesi call his name, but he paid her no mind. He had to concentrate, or else it wouldn’t work.
After what seemed like an eternity of that tearing, cramping pain in his stomach, he heard the squalls of a baby and took his hand off of Risa’s stomach, opening his eyes slowly. He noticed without much interest that the tips of his fingers were blue, and his arm was tingling madly as circulation was restored to it. The familiar pain at the base of his skull throbbed dully, but he noticed that when he moved his head, the pain strengthened. He smiled wryly to himself and looked up at Doesi and Risa - looked up! He realized that he was on his knees on the ground, bent over like an old man, clutching his stomach with his free right arm.
“Look, Risa,” Doesi was saying, wrapping the newborn in a blanket. “It’s a little boy. And he’s going to have pretty eyes just like Bakar and Phelu have.”
Risa stretched out trembling arms to cradle the baby as Phelu got to his feet, surprised to feel his head erupt into new waves of pain at the movement.
“What will ye name it?” Doesi asked Risa kindly, looking at her sister with tenderness in her eyes, throwing a grateful look at Phelu.
“Aziz,” Risa said fondly, drawing the infant to her in a grip that was both tight and tender. “To be cherished.”
“It’s a fine name,” Doesi said. “Do ye want me to get ye some clean clothes? Yers are dirty.”
“That would be lovely, Doesi,” she said.
“I’ll get them to ye, but first I have to excuse our guest.”
As Doesi took Phelu out of the room, Risa told them to wait.
“Thank ye,” she said. “I’d be in terrible pain if it weren’t for ye,” she said. “It didn’t hurt ye, did it?” she asked.
“No,” Phelu lied, forcing a smile. “It didn’t hurt me at all. Just get ye some rest, alright?”
“Goodbye, Phelu,” she said, smiling down on her son.
“Goodbye, Risa.”
“I have to talk to ye about Risa,” Doesi said.
“Why? What happened?”
“Ye ken her husband, Bakar?”
“Yes…why?”
“He’s dead, Phelu.”
Phelu was silent for a moment. “How?” he said, after awhile.
“How what?”
“How did he die?”
“He died in battle. He was off fighting the wild centaur women of the north, and one of them shot a javelin at him. It hit him in the stomach, and they dragged him off. Even if he’s not dead, he’s as good as. As soon as they can’t use him to…mate anymore, they’ll eat him.” She wiped hurriedly at the tears that were beading in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, unsure of what to say.
“It’s alrigh’, nothing anybody could do at all.” Doesi sniffed and tucked a strand of her curly, sandy hair behind her ears, and then placed her pudgy hands on Phelu’s shoulders.
“Now, did ye get hurt at all when ye helped Risa? Ye looked awfully uncomfortable, and ye don’t look so great right now. Ye’re awful pale.”
“I’m fine,” Phelu said quickly, and Doesi frowned, touched his forehead with the back of her hand.
“Now,” she said. “I don’t ken the ways of ye healers much, but I don’t think that’s supposed to happen. Are ye sure ye’re alright?”
“I’m sure,” Phelu said agitatedly. “And if it bothers ye so much, I’ll go see Bronya. She kens these kinds of things, though she isn’t a healer herself.”
“Alright,” Doesi said. “Ye be careful though, alright? I dinna want ye to injure yerself from helping my sister. Risa doesna want that, either.”
-------
That's all for now.