(Roleplay, somewhat more intense than some.)
![birth1]()
The day had come. Instinct was driving her, step by weary step, and she made her way to the small place in the castle she'd created, entering, carefully closing the wooden door behind her. For a few moments she just sat inside, recovering, panting, curling up around the precious treasures within. She hurt. Getting shot with iron-tipped arrows was the only thing she could remember having hurt worse.
![birth2]()
The Duke was nowhere to be found, and she didn't have the time to wait. She staggered upright, foot tangling in one of the purple velvet pillows padding the floor, and felt a warm gush of fluid down her legs, the temperature of blood. For a moment she panicked, thinking that's what it was, but she looked down and realized. This...was part of the process. She'd read up on this. This was normal, right?
Right?
Right. Olive pillows it was. She crawled to the other side of the little room, collapsing when she was clear of the small pool soaking into the rug.
![birth3]()
She had no idea what to do. She had no idea how to breathe. She tried not to make noise, because she was in the castle, and there were still...things...creeping through the portals they had not managed to close. But at some point even that failed, and she bore down screaming.
![birth4]()
The first kitten born was a male, and some small, primal part of her was happy she'd provided a true heir to the line. He was golden-furred, as his father had been when she'd caught in the first place. But she wasn't done. She bore down, pushing, pushing, to birth the second kitten.
![birth5]()
The second kitten born was a little girl, but she was only golden--and a leopard--as long as it took to shake some of her fur clean of fluids, and then she shifted. Her round little head, definitely not leopard in proportions, tucked under a weak, unresisting arm, and she felt her lips twitch into an almost-smile at the tiny kitten purr she heard.
No spots on the second one, though, after the first moment of existence. Would she be able to get them back? She had no idea. But she laid back, satisfied, tired, and then...felt something kick inside. Not...just two? But...she'd thought it was just two. There were still...
She almost sobbed when the realization sunk in to her pain-slowed mind. She wasn't done.
![birth6]()
She bore down with all the energy she had left, no energy remaining even to scream, and finally, panting, sheened in sweat, she collapsed against the pillows, spent. The third kitten had done the same thing as the second--another little girl, the third one, that came out spotted and golden, and turned fog-grey with barely detectable stripes.
She used the last of her energy to look around the small enclosed space. Two kittens wandering around, investigating their territory, while the last one, the little grey girl, stood by her shoulder peering down at her exhausted face. She would reach up in just another moment, and pull her into a cuddle, then give them all something to eat. She could stay awake long enough for that. In just...another...mommm...
In the firelit room, surrounded by old stone and older energies, she did what she was later sure many new mothers had done after giving birth: she passed out cold.
The day had come. Instinct was driving her, step by weary step, and she made her way to the small place in the castle she'd created, entering, carefully closing the wooden door behind her. For a few moments she just sat inside, recovering, panting, curling up around the precious treasures within. She hurt. Getting shot with iron-tipped arrows was the only thing she could remember having hurt worse.
The Duke was nowhere to be found, and she didn't have the time to wait. She staggered upright, foot tangling in one of the purple velvet pillows padding the floor, and felt a warm gush of fluid down her legs, the temperature of blood. For a moment she panicked, thinking that's what it was, but she looked down and realized. This...was part of the process. She'd read up on this. This was normal, right?
Right?
Right. Olive pillows it was. She crawled to the other side of the little room, collapsing when she was clear of the small pool soaking into the rug.
She had no idea what to do. She had no idea how to breathe. She tried not to make noise, because she was in the castle, and there were still...things...creeping through the portals they had not managed to close. But at some point even that failed, and she bore down screaming.
The first kitten born was a male, and some small, primal part of her was happy she'd provided a true heir to the line. He was golden-furred, as his father had been when she'd caught in the first place. But she wasn't done. She bore down, pushing, pushing, to birth the second kitten.
The second kitten born was a little girl, but she was only golden--and a leopard--as long as it took to shake some of her fur clean of fluids, and then she shifted. Her round little head, definitely not leopard in proportions, tucked under a weak, unresisting arm, and she felt her lips twitch into an almost-smile at the tiny kitten purr she heard.
No spots on the second one, though, after the first moment of existence. Would she be able to get them back? She had no idea. But she laid back, satisfied, tired, and then...felt something kick inside. Not...just two? But...she'd thought it was just two. There were still...
She almost sobbed when the realization sunk in to her pain-slowed mind. She wasn't done.
She bore down with all the energy she had left, no energy remaining even to scream, and finally, panting, sheened in sweat, she collapsed against the pillows, spent. The third kitten had done the same thing as the second--another little girl, the third one, that came out spotted and golden, and turned fog-grey with barely detectable stripes.
She used the last of her energy to look around the small enclosed space. Two kittens wandering around, investigating their territory, while the last one, the little grey girl, stood by her shoulder peering down at her exhausted face. She would reach up in just another moment, and pull her into a cuddle, then give them all something to eat. She could stay awake long enough for that. In just...another...mommm...
In the firelit room, surrounded by old stone and older energies, she did what she was later sure many new mothers had done after giving birth: she passed out cold.