05-02-2015, 12:03 PM
As a child you would wait, and watch from far away. But you always knew you'd be the one to work while they all play. God, she hates him. Not really, of course, he's Covet, one of her closest friends throughout the year and also kind of something more. But has any pregnant woman, throughout the history of time, failed to curse the man who made her pregnant? And in this case, she knows from the way she's felt the kicks, from the strange too-heavy weight, that this is either the world's fattest foal with more than the usual count of legs, or she's having twins. She leaves Shahrizai fairly suddenly, taking off on wings that are blessedly able to support her increased weight. She lands, and finds a remote part of the Valley, buried deep within a thicket of trees. Normally she might have sought out her tree, but she's not about to go over there and give birth underneath it with Shahrizai standing right there. If she's lucky it'll take him a bit of time to find his way over here. She doesn't doubt that he might show up, he's exactly the kind of nosy that might do that, but she wants to have the babies (yes, she's convinced now) out before he comes along. Before anyone comes along – including Covet. She just isn't into giving birth in any kind of public capacity. Luckily for her, no sooner has she found the spot than her labor begins in earnest. She sinks gently, almost elegantly to her knees, and then over onto her side. Her wings are tucked away haphazardly, awkwardly out of the way so that they won't get damaged in a process she knows can get quite hectic. With a sigh, she resigns herself, and begins pushing. A daughter slips free, and Librette glances behind her just long enough to see that something has gone horribly wrong – that the girl has landed on the ground in a way that simply shouldn't be possible. Her eyes cloud with worry (apparently, when giving birth, she is actually somewhat maternal) as she looks at the girl, and she makes to stand up and nudge her. But miraculously, the girl heals, standing up, just fine as though nothing at all had happened. And when orange eyes blink back at her from an otherwise spitting image of herself, she is sure that this girl is her father's daughter, eyes and immortality and everything. Satisfied that the girl is breathing, Librette turns her attention to the next one. This baby arrives without trouble, another girl, the spitting image of her sister (and of her mother), but without the orange eyes. It is a relatively untroubled and painless labor (you know, minus the part where the first one almost died), and it's over before she knows it. Both babies are standing, and both seem to be completely healthy and normal. She is glad, mostly because she was more than tired of being pregnant, but also because she's just introduced two new lives into a Valley that very desperately needs more life in it. It occurs to her, belatedly, that she should probably name them. She's named all her other children. But she hasn’t given any thought to it this time, she doesn't have anything prepared – and she simply isn't sure at all what she should say. And so, at least for the time being, she is silent. Let the babies nurse for now. They can get named later. Don't weep for me LIBRETTEBecause this will be the labor of my love.
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