something just like this

The time between Petyr's departure and Zoeya's arrival felt like ages. By now her contractions had grown more intense with a shorter reprieve in between; leaving Naerys feeling frazzled and oddly primal. Her younger sister's sweet, innocent face is a welcome arrival and though a small smile weakly lifts the corners of her mouth it is hardly convincing and far too short lived. She stopped pacing once she saw the girl, yet she is far from still - her muscles quiver from the intensity of the pain, her whole body quaking with anxiety and fear. Her breaths are shallow and unsteady. "Zoe..." she whimpers, her teal eyes widened enough to expose a sliver of white. Her gaze is pleading until another contraction rips through her, subconsciously causing her whole body to tense. Her fear overrides her basic instinct, preventing her from relaxing and allowing the contractions to do their job. As the pain fades once more, though, she becomes aware of Zoeya's words. The girl's instructions leave her almost dumbfounded, teal eyes staring at her younger sister as her face contorts with her own confusion. "Zoe, where did you..." she begins but she can't quite finish before another contractions tears through her like a bolt of lightning. Naerys grimaces through the pain, eyes squeezing shut and jaw clenching as though it would help (it doesn't, not really.) As that contraction fades, the pain somewhat eases with it. That's when her mother's voice rings out across the crystal cavern and Naerys dissolves into a small filly once again, choking back sobs. The sudden burst of emotions makes her throat clench almost as hard as the contractions themselves. "MOMMY!" she forces out in a strained shout and it doesn't even matter that she's three years old. It doesn't even matter that she hasn't called Alysanne mommy in more than a year. "It hurts so much." she whimpers, and as though her words could bid another contraction to come, her abdomen squeezes again and she tenses through it, crying out this time; the sound somehow small and strangled, seeping through clenched teeth and tight muscles. Though her sobs had subsided she can feel the tears welling in her eyes again, hot and stinging, but Naerys holds them back for now. For how long is rather debatable but she has no will to focus on holding them at bay. Alysanne's touch to her shoulder helps to ease her fear and panic. It doesn't take it away entirely - that is simply impossible - but it helps her more than she ever thought it could. As the next contraction hits, she doesn't tense nearly as much. Instead she attempts to focus her breathing, calming it down from the near-hyperventilation it had been only moments ago. A single tear slips from her eye and slides down her cheek. As the pain lessens again, she inhales deeply, and though the anxiety over the unknown remains - nothing could have prepared her for this, nothing at all - she finds herself in a slightly calmer state. The younger mare shifts her gaze into the calming green eyes of her mother before carefully lowering herself to the cave floor. Zoeya's calm presence certainly helped grant her mother strength but it is her mother's presence that changes her outlook the most. Alysanne has done this before, multiple times, and though her experience is invaluable it isn't her experience that calms Naerys. No, it's something deeper, more personal. Something about the mother-daughter bond gives her far more strength than she could have ever fathomed in that moment. And strength is what she needs as another contractions hits. How each one can get progressively more intense is beyond her but that's precisely how it seems. She fights to keep her breathing steady and even - focusing on everything except how bad it hurts because that would only make her tense. Tension, she's discovered, only fights against the progress each contraction is designed to accomplish. With each one, it is increasingly more difficult. With each one she has to fight the desire to scramble to her hooves and fling herself into Alysanne's embrace. With each one she has to fight against the urge to sob and beg for them to take this all away. Help, she wants to say, please... I can't do this. Even Petyr cannot handle the intense swirl of emotions raging through Naerys' body. The green bird paces for her when she stops. He looks rather frazzled with his beak open, nearly panting as he moves, random squawks leaving his throat. There is nothing he can do and though he himself isn't anxious, her emotions overwhelm him - their bond leaving him uncomfortable. But Naerys doesn't have a choice. There is no magical way to teleport the foal out of her body. No way to blink and make it all go away, undo the past decisions that resulted in her current situation. She had taken comfort in Kvasir. Together they created this life, and there is only one option - the foal must be born. As another contraction hits, the pain almost shifts to an immense pressure through her hips. The desire to push is something almost otherworldly - Naerys feels nearly out of control of her own body. Sweat coats her body, and she rolls onto her side to stretch out. With each subsequent contraction she pushes back. Pushing helps to ease some of the pain across her abdomen, only to replace it with an almost burning sensation as her body stretches around the foal easing out of her. It feels like ages before the head slips out and for a moment she merely lays there groaning, wishing for it to end there and now. But it doesn't. It can't. It takes more effort to get the shoulders (and edges of the wings) out but after that it's almost simple. As the foal slides out with a final push, Naerys flops her head back down; her breathing heavy, exhaustion making her whole body feel limp. The pressure is gone, the pain eases but moving is the last thing on her mind. Heat practically radiates off of her and the foal behind her. The desire for sleep is strong but with great effort she lifts her head off the ground, rolling more upright. Naerys cranes her head around to look at the mess of fluid and foal laying behind her. She expects an overwhelming surge of emotion, a sudden inexplicable feeling of love that transcends all reason but it doesn't come. There is only an overwhelming numbness. When Naerys shifts to get up, there is nothing graceful or ceremonious about the way she raises herself from the ground. She stumbles up onto her hooves, her muscles quivering from heavy use and pure exhaustion instead of pain. The new mother turns herself around - the air filled with an odd mixture of blood, fluids, and flowers - and begins to lick the foal clean. She operates on pure instinct; the lack of emotion behind her actions would shock her if she could bring herself to feel anything in the first place. Perhaps she is simply in shock. Or perhaps there is something more deeply wrong with her. Either way she says nothing because there is nothing to be said. Her focus remains on cleaning the filly that has since taken her first breath and raised her head from the hard ground beneath them. Hidden beneath the mess of birth is a beautiful dark brown filly with patches of white, and the most beautiful mixture of vivid blue and teal mingling in her eyes. By all outward appearances, she is perfect. But even as Naerys' gaze locks onto the encompassing gaze of her daughter, she waits for the flood of love and adoration. She waits for a flood that doesn't come.

Art and coding by neverrmind@ DA

(Holy word vomit. Sorry guys. xD Don't worry about Nae, I promise things will get better. Alerie's post will be up soon - probably after the kiddos are down for a nap.)