Name Day Flowers (May 2982) - [Ceolmund] (CW)
Dec 1, 2017 10:32:22 GMT -5
Post by Runa on Dec 1, 2017 10:32:22 GMT -5
(Content warning: child abuse)
“Mama, do…do I need to get Papa?”
Her son’s drawn, pale face and concerned blue eyes peered at her as he started to stand from the bed and inch nervously for the door. Hildred hissed and groaned, hand pressed against her side. Runa had apparently heeded Ceolmund’s plea to wait to make her appearance a little too well for her mother’s liking. The birthing pains were coming painful and slow, and she had started bleeding nearly the full twelve days ago. Still, for all the labor Hildred had endured so far, her baby was not quite ready to come. She knew that Beorhtric was trying to be supportive, for he had often sat at her bedside for the past days, helping wipe her brow of sweat when she needed it, and giving her cups of water. Still, he was young, and despite the airs the young boy put on, he was unnerved seeing his mother cooped to her bed and in so much pain.
Perhaps Runa still was not ready to join them, but Hildred wanted her son a chance to leave the bedside. The pain subsided, and she breathed a sigh, looking to him with a tired smile on her lips. “Yes, why don’t you go get Papa. Maybe Uncle Brand and Uncle Torsten can take you down to the training grounds this afternoon!”
The boy shifted by the door, one hand on the frame and eyes sliding from his mother’s face to her rounded stomach. Perhaps he was trying to decide if he could afford such time away. He was determined to be the best older brother the baby could have, and he was fairly sure that meant staying right here with his mother and sister.
“Sweetheart, it’s all right! There isn’t anything you can help with for this part,” Hildred said with a faint laugh. “As soon as she’s here you can hold her, I promise. Go play for a bit.”
“Okay, Mama,” Beorhtric murmured, and after a moment longer of looking at her, he turned and disappeared down the hallway.
“You know we’re ready for you,” Hildred sighed to her belly, hand rubbing against her side tiredly. She leaned back against the pillows, wondering if maybe there would be break enough between the pains to sleep for a bit. Up the hall, she could hear footsteps approaching. They were the heavy tread of her husband, and he rounded the corner with a smile, and came to press a kiss to her lips as he sat himself down on her bedside.
“Your mother is cooking some soup,” he hummed, sweeping her hand up in his. “I can bring you some of the broth if you’re feeling up to it.” His bright eye shifted to the arrayed bouquets of flowers that were sitting in various make-do vases on the bedside table. There was one for every day she had been cooped up in the bed.
“I suspect we’ll be getting another delivery soon,” he remarked. “He’s a little later today.”
“Like our daughter, at this point,” Hildred laughed.
Amalric glided his hand over her, sighing. “I wish I could help,” he muttered.
Hildred shook her head, blonde locks falling over her cheeks. “You’re doing perfect,” she assured him, squeezing his hand with hers. “I’m sure it will be over soon. And then she’ll be here, and you’ll wish you didn’t have to help so much.” The woman’s eyes glinted with amusement, and the man laughed. The sound was warm, like the sunlight streaming through the open window.
“We're naming her Runa?” He asked.
“I like it,” Hildred answered.
“I love it,” Amalric added. “It’s Ceol’s baby, It’s only fair that he should get to name her.” His grin widened.
“Mama, do…do I need to get Papa?”
Her son’s drawn, pale face and concerned blue eyes peered at her as he started to stand from the bed and inch nervously for the door. Hildred hissed and groaned, hand pressed against her side. Runa had apparently heeded Ceolmund’s plea to wait to make her appearance a little too well for her mother’s liking. The birthing pains were coming painful and slow, and she had started bleeding nearly the full twelve days ago. Still, for all the labor Hildred had endured so far, her baby was not quite ready to come. She knew that Beorhtric was trying to be supportive, for he had often sat at her bedside for the past days, helping wipe her brow of sweat when she needed it, and giving her cups of water. Still, he was young, and despite the airs the young boy put on, he was unnerved seeing his mother cooped to her bed and in so much pain.
Perhaps Runa still was not ready to join them, but Hildred wanted her son a chance to leave the bedside. The pain subsided, and she breathed a sigh, looking to him with a tired smile on her lips. “Yes, why don’t you go get Papa. Maybe Uncle Brand and Uncle Torsten can take you down to the training grounds this afternoon!”
The boy shifted by the door, one hand on the frame and eyes sliding from his mother’s face to her rounded stomach. Perhaps he was trying to decide if he could afford such time away. He was determined to be the best older brother the baby could have, and he was fairly sure that meant staying right here with his mother and sister.
“Sweetheart, it’s all right! There isn’t anything you can help with for this part,” Hildred said with a faint laugh. “As soon as she’s here you can hold her, I promise. Go play for a bit.”
“Okay, Mama,” Beorhtric murmured, and after a moment longer of looking at her, he turned and disappeared down the hallway.
“You know we’re ready for you,” Hildred sighed to her belly, hand rubbing against her side tiredly. She leaned back against the pillows, wondering if maybe there would be break enough between the pains to sleep for a bit. Up the hall, she could hear footsteps approaching. They were the heavy tread of her husband, and he rounded the corner with a smile, and came to press a kiss to her lips as he sat himself down on her bedside.
“Your mother is cooking some soup,” he hummed, sweeping her hand up in his. “I can bring you some of the broth if you’re feeling up to it.” His bright eye shifted to the arrayed bouquets of flowers that were sitting in various make-do vases on the bedside table. There was one for every day she had been cooped up in the bed.
“I suspect we’ll be getting another delivery soon,” he remarked. “He’s a little later today.”
“Like our daughter, at this point,” Hildred laughed.
Amalric glided his hand over her, sighing. “I wish I could help,” he muttered.
Hildred shook her head, blonde locks falling over her cheeks. “You’re doing perfect,” she assured him, squeezing his hand with hers. “I’m sure it will be over soon. And then she’ll be here, and you’ll wish you didn’t have to help so much.” The woman’s eyes glinted with amusement, and the man laughed. The sound was warm, like the sunlight streaming through the open window.
“We're naming her Runa?” He asked.
“I like it,” Hildred answered.
“I love it,” Amalric added. “It’s Ceol’s baby, It’s only fair that he should get to name her.” His grin widened.