I had no idea if the child was a girl. I was not a seer (I’d tried, I’d failed), as Valentine was not.
But I had hope.
“Whatever it is,” the midwife snapped back, “make her push. If we lose her now, we could lose them both now.”
“That is not happening,” I shared haughtily, watched her open her mouth to speak but I turned my head from hers, tightened my hand well beyond the strength Brikitta had been using, feeling her bones and flesh crunch in my grip, and I bent over my sister. “Awake!” I commanded.
Her eyes fluttered and her head again drooped.
I yanked her hand hard so her back left the bed, Hilde cried, “Franka!” but Brikitta focused on me.
“Look at me and push,” I ordered.
“I’m so tired, Franka,” she whispered.
“I’m quite certain you were tired of me being an unceasing bitch for five years but you never let me beat you,” I retorted.
She blinked at me.
“Push,” I charged.
“I don’t…have much…more…”
I yanked her again, heard Hilde’s surprised cry, but my maneuver had the desired results. The fading Brikitta focused again.
I put my face square in hers.
“Push, sister. I’ll not have you leaving us now. Not now. Not ever. Today, you bring my brother more joy. You bring it for yourself. And you bring it for me, and I get what I bloody well want. So you’re giving me a bloody niece. Now…push.”
“You…are very… mercenary,” Brikitta forced out.
“I’m a Drakkar,” I retorted. “Now, I’d be happy to have a conversation with you, sister. But before that, if you’d be so kind—”
I didn’t finish as, before I could, her hand crushed mine, she bared her teeth as she gritted them, the blood rushed to her face and she bent forward, groaning.
“I see the head!” the midwife cried.
Thank the gods!
I looked that way and saw the same, covered in Kristian’s dark hair.
I again turned to Brikitta. “She’s got Kristian’s hair.” I watched her eyes flash. “Keep going, my beautiful girl.”
She nodded and kept pushing.
Back and forth I looked as more of the baby came through, Hilde’s encouragement mingled with my own, and finally on a tortured cry that I was sure, if my brother heard it (and the last time I checked, he was pacing the hall outside this very bed chamber door so he would), would send him into a deathly fright, the rest of the baby came out.
“It’s a boy!” the midwife whispered excitedly.
Brikitta slumped against the pillows.
I drew in a long breath, let it out and sat down on the bed, still holding her hand as Hilde let the other one go to dash around with bathing cloths and blankets, clucking and cooing, and murmuring, “How beautiful, so beautiful.”
Through this, Brikitta stared at what was happening at the end of the bed, an exhausted smile shading her lips, a look of deep contentment eclipsing the fatigue that shadowed her eyes.
It took time, but eventually feeling my gaze, she gave me hers.
When she did, I felt my eyes get moist.
I sniffed and decreed, “A boy. It seems you’ll have to do this again.”
Her eyes grew wide then her exhausted laughter filled the room.
I smiled before I leaned forward, kissed her forehead, let her go, got up and walked out of the room in order to tell my brother he had a new son.
* * * * *
Noc
Darling.
Noc turned in bed.
Noc, are you there?
His eyes shot open and he sat straight up. He looked around the room that had no furniture (except that bed) but still, with the patterned metal mirrors and weave work adorning the walls and other shit like that, it kicked ass.
The moonlight shone through the opened windows and he saw nothing.
Noc?
Fuck, that was Franka’s voice.
“Frannie?” he called into the empty room.
You’re there.
He didn’t know where her voice was coming from, his head or disembodied in the room.
He also didn’t give a shit.
It was just fucking great to hear her voice.
“I see you’ve learned some wielding,” he remarked.
Her voice held humor when she replied, If it would not take great magic, I’d be standing by your bed.
He would not mind that at all.
Months had passed. Her lover was not freshly dead. She was no longer in the throes of grief. Her parents had not just been discovered to be the fuckwads they were and Franka was not trying to find ways to cope with the massive changes that meant, healing from mental wounds as well as the physical ones her father had unleashed.
It was time they had a conversation.
Though, he’d wait until he had her on his turf and not do it when she was somewhere else and just coming to him in his head (or whatever).
I have a new nephew, she shared.
“Fuckin’ hell, baby, that’s awesome,” he said as he laid back in bed and crossed his hands behind his head.
It is, she agreed.
“Everyone good?” he asked.
Yes. The baby is healthy, loud and robust. Quite heavy, he gave Brikitta a tough time, but she persevered. He’s also quite long, so he, too, will be tall like his father. A full head of hair. All his fingers. All his toes. Brikitta is tired but she’s got plenty of people around to look after the child so she can get some rest. I nearly had to cast a spell on Josette to make her forget for a time we had a newborn in our midst. She quite fell in love.
He thought of her and the frequent time she spent with Tim.
“And I’m sure you’re not interested at all,” he teased.