RP:Birth of a King
Frostmaw Tavern
Jerica paced the main floor of the tavern with one hand to her back the other on the distended roundness of the belly that preceded her every step. Her lips were pinched into twin lines of pain as another knotted tightness squeezes her stomach. Drargon watched the small woman move a circuit around his establishment with a wrinkle of worry to his heavy brow. The two had become, if not close, then sort of friends. Catching the look on her fourth or fifth, maybe fortieth and fiftieth, pass Jerica gave the warrior giant a reassuring smile that turned into a grimace and gasp as another contraction stopped her in her tracks. "Oh. That one. Hurt." Jerica gripped the back of a chair tightly; so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Daisy is actually quite calm for once. There is no skipping or prancing about. You just don't do that when your friend is there all round and pregnant and ready to pop! Oh no. So what is she doing? Sitting and cutting up leaves and things that smell nice with a tiny knife on a tiny cutting board and dumping said leaves into a teapot for brewing. She looks up when Jerica pauses with complaint. "Maybe a private room would be best?" Her soft little voice is careful not to upset the other woman. You don't just go upsetting pregnant women!
Jerica shot a look towards Daisy then she noticed the looks she was getting from other patrons. "Yes, you're probably right." She was disrupting business and no one liked that. But there was so much room here to move around! And the stairs-- she glanced at them with a frown, "If you can do me a favor first. It'll probably be some time yet before this boy is making an appearance, so why don't you go and get.." Jerica paused to breath a bit through yet another pang, "Eboric for me? I would really rather have him here for this." Because up til now, Jerica had never so much as whispered the name of her baby's father. This was too important a moment to not have him there to greet his first born into the world.
Daisy's eyes widen with a little pursing of her lips. Eboric. Sure. Just go on out and find him. Can't be too hard to do, right? I mean. He's massive and powerful and even when he bumps into the trees, they're all like 'oh gosh, excuse me' and get out of his way. Oh god. She stands up and nods with determination. "I will do that for you!" After all, she did promise to help and if finding the manbeastgodwerebear is what Jerica wants, that is what she'll do. Kittens are meant to keep their promises. This one is anyway. So she takes off as fast as her little kitten legs will carry her. How do you just... Oh! Look at this bit of convenience! Absolutely nowhere near a cliff is Eboric! "Excuse me?" Oh so mousy. Man up, kitten! Er... yeah. "Eboric! You have to come! Jerica wants you!" She dares to tug on his hand with both paws.
Krice was lurking outside, leaned up against a tree that stood directly opposite the Frostmaw Tavern's doorway, and two metres back from the west flank of the road. When Daisy emerged from within, the warrior arched a brow and his pupils dilated, senses diverting to the atmosphere within; as if the opening of the door had released a wave of awareness to him, previously trapped on the other side. As Daisy rushed off to do lordknowswhat, the warrior ventured into the tavern, thrusting open the door with his right palm and locking his gaze on Jerica. His lips pressed together and he frowned, shooting a cool glance across the faces of the interested patrons. Leaving behind his scent for inclined but probably-not-presently-interested parties due to Jerica's condition, Krice ventured toward her with his right arm outstretched, ready to stabilize her. " Hey," he called, his eyes registering barely-subdued concern.
Eboric is forced to put his sudden need to find the nearest cliff aside for the moment, his scowl of dislike giving way, if only briefly, to a look of concern. Without a word, however, he strides off in the direction from which Daisy had come, knowing, of course, from the reports of his men, that Jerica would be in the tavern. And so it is that the warlord strides through the streets of Frostmaw, where he has not been seen in quite some time, bulling his way through the snow to the tavern itself. He flings open the door, scanning the room swiftly for any sign of Jerica. He arrives, incidentally, in time to see Krice approaching the woman, arm out. He moves to block the other man's path, intentionally cutting him off from his goal, although the werebear's true attention is on Jerica. "Is it time," he asks, a note of something akin to worry in his voice.
Krice seemed intent on reaching Jerica, for no other purpose than to offer her the support she seemed to need. When the tavern door swung open in his wake, however, the hulking presence of the approaching were-bear drew his gaze over his left shoulder, past the hilt of his back-mounted katana. His expression dissolved from calm and concerned to hard and aggressive. Unwittingly, he thought it necessary to defend the pregnant woman from the larger male's arrival. When Eboric reached to shove him out of the way, the warrior pushed both his hands forward for a reciprocating shove, followed by a growl of, " Hey!"
Jerica watched with wry amusement as Daisy raced out and Krice come in shortly after. She flashed a brief smile towards her friend and started towards the stairs one wobbly waddling step at a time. Right before he could reach her though, Eboric was there and pure relief washes over the woman along with that expression a woman can have only for the man she was completely nuts for. "Ebo--" she was cut off by Krice's growl and her eyes flicked towards him. "It's okay. This is my baby's father." To Eboric, she nodded, "It's time." Somewhere behind the men had to be Daisy. The energetic and amusing kitten better be there, somewhere.
Daisy is totally there! Making sure trees get out of the Eboric's way and ohgod he almost stepped on that turtle! In Frostmaw. Winter turtles with furry hats and scarves. Cute! Right. In the tavern now with all that testosterone being flung about. "Be nice, Fountain Man." She pushes herself between the two men, hoping she isn't stepped on. "I found him, Jerica." Proud of herself, she beams at the woman and then up at Eboric. "You have to carry her upstairs." Bet you never figured the tiny druid would ever tell Eboric that he -has- to do anything, hm? Well she does. Gives him a poke on the arm too, before darting up a few of the stairs. Prepared kittens are prepared and a room has already been readied for this very occasion.
Eboric spares only a brief moment of his attention for Krice, as the smaller man's ineffectual push is felt against his heavy bearskin cloak. The werebear's head swings around, his eyes, now full of a cold anger, locking onto Krice's own. "You will step away from me, and my woman or, I swear by all the gods, when my child is safely delivered, I will chop those hands off your wrists, and make you eat them." That said, he utterly dismisses the man, returning his attention to Jerica, and Daisy too. He even follows the latter's advice, because it was surely not an order. Reaching out, he gently gathers Jerica into his arms, lifting her easily even with the added weight of the child. Moving as carefully as he can, he follows the feline up the stairs.
Krice wasn't afraid of Eboric; not of his hulking size, or of his threats. But there were words in that response that hurt him. He stepped back, Jerica and Daisy's own reassurances distantly echoing through his head, and diverted his hard gaze from the were-bear's face to Jerica's. He swallowed, pressed his lips together, and stared at her with a weighty, heartfelt darkness in his eyes before
Eboric swept her into his arms and turned her from him. The warrior did not follow, perhaps too stunned to do so, and instead, after a few more seconds looking at the trio as they ascended, he directed a distracted glance to a nearby drunk who, trembling, asked in a pathetic voice, " H-hey... Y'alright man?" Krice ignored him, too wrapped in his own thoughts, and turned to stalk out of the tavern.
Jerica grins at Daisy, simply because she is too cute not to grin at even in pain. "You did, thank you." Swept up in Eboric's arms she gave him a small smack to a broad shoulder and frowned, "Krice is my friend--" but whatever else she might have said was cut off by a grunt of discomfort as another contraction came and lingered. Brown eyes glanced over Eboric's shoulder to Krice to catch that dark look. She thought of the mermaid he'd told her about and understood just how much it must have hurt to finally see her with the man she loved enough to have a child with. Sympathy mingled with the pain in her eyes but he may have missed it when he turned to leave. Resting her head on Eboric's shoulder, Jerica let out a sigh of breath she had been holding and the pain passed.
Daisy has to swoon a little. 'My woman.' How hot is that? Oi! Pay attention, kitten! She starts a bit then turns to scamper up the stairs, almost stumbling over herself but somehow managing to stay upright on both feet. Eboric would probably just step over her if she tumbled down anyway. Or on her. Probably on her. Down the hall, the very last door is opened and held as such so that Jerica can be carried inside. There are towels and various containers of water and pillows for propping the woman up and what-have-you already in the room. "There." Not that she needs to point and direct, but she does anyway.
Eboric doesn't spare any time or thought to the departing man, nor even to Jerica's words. Instead, he simply carries her the rest of the way into the prepared room, letting her down carefully onto the bed. He removes his cloak, folding it as neatly as he can before placing it under her head, to serve as an additional pillow, as if the ones already in the room are not enough as it is. Letting his small pack drop to the floor, the big man lowers himself to one knee beside it, next to the bed. "I have...no experience in this sort of thing," he says, somewhat uncomfortably. "But I will be here throughout."
Krice didn't see anything that Jerica could offer him. He was already en route to the outside world. He fought against the want to turn around, walk back to that bastard teddy, and make him hand Jerica over. Despite his instinctive want to protect the woman, his logical mind knew that she was in safe hands despite the history of those hands, and he knew that there was no place for him here. The door swung open from his thrusting left hand and groaned in protest from the force, slapping the outside wall of the tavern. The impact jarred the hinges and dislodged snow from the eaves above the door. He stepped clear of the icy clumps that sloshed onto the path, disappearing into the murky whiteness beyond.
Jerica wished she could have had a moment to tell Eboric he'd been very rude to Krice and at the same time she understood the werebear's behavior. What held her tongue was the increased pains that gripped her womb and insisted she do something about it. Propped up on pillows and with sweat starting to dot her brow, she gave Eboric an encouraging smile, "It's okay. I haven't either." She heard the door slam open below and winced as it smacked shut again. "I'm glad you're here," Jerica murmured and looked over Eboric's beloved face with searching eyes. She wanted to know despite her progressing labor, if he was alright. Jerica didn't ask because she suddenly didn't have the breath to. Gasps and gulps of air were taken and she was quite sure that birthing was a long and painful process but this kid wanted to come, and he wanted to come now. The protective sack of water broke, wetting the bed with the fluids it had contained and Jerica reached out for Eboric's hand to grip it as tight as she could, which for him probably wouldn't feel like much. "Daisy-- I have--to--push--I think," panic made her voice a little bit on the high pitched side as she squirmed up to sit instinctively. At least by this point she would have been made ready --meaning nothing to stop a baby from exiting her body.
Daisy is the only one in this room who has done this before! Woahman. This is gonna be... Why is Jerica still wearing pants?! "It's okay! Just breathe. Focus on something." She hops up on that bed and kneels between the woman's thighs. "You." The claws of one paw are extended while the other paw kind of waggles at Eboric. "Breathe with her. Keep her focused on you." She demonstrates how to breathe while slipping a very sharp claw down the inseam of Jerica's pants. Insta-skirt! The top part is folded up over Jerica's bent knees so Daisy can see what is going on down there. "Oh! Oh you're crowning." She grins. "When I say, give me a good push, alright?" Towel at the ready, she counts. "One. Two. Three. Push!"
Eboric takes Jerica's hand, allowing her to squeeze as hard as she liked without complaint. With his other hand, he uses a small strip of cloth to wipe the sweat from her forehead. "I am glad I am here, too," he says quietly. "And I am sure that you can do this." To all appearances, the warlord is hale and whole; no new injuries can be seen to worry the laboring woman, and his voice is calm and steady, intended to reassure her. "And when you have done it, you can be by my side again, not here in this wasteland." At Daisy's words, he gives her a slightly bemused look, but duly attempts to copy the method of breathing, in hopes of getting Jerica into the regular rhythm.
Jerica gives Eboric a sidelong glance that wasn't so sure of that herself but the need to bear down (no puns intended here) and get this over with, to meet her son and introduce him to his father was overwhelming. As soon as she had an insta-skirt and Daisy was looking like a catcher at a ball game, Jerica gritted her teeth and tucked her chin to her chest. The hand she held was squeezed as hard as she could while she pushed and pushed and pushed, breathing when she needed to, then pushing some more. Eboric did help with the breathing part though she thought she caught a glimpse of worry now and then but she could have imagined it. She rather liked the idea of finally being at his side but there were things she needed to tell him, too. Again, that could wait since she was pushing into another contraction and could feel the moment the baby's head slipped through.
Daisy may have mistaken the meaning behind that smile, but he -did- smile at her. Oh well. At or with, so long as there is laughter. Nevermind that now! There is a baby on his way. "You're doing just fine, Jerica. The head is out." She oh so carefully reaches down to guide the rest of the baby out. Once the head and shoulders are through, the rest of him just kind of falls into Daisy's arms. So messy! The baby is cleaned up and checked for fingers and toes before he is wrapped up in a towel and brought over to the awaiting parents. "Congratulations on your new son. He's perfect."
Eboric reaches out to take the boy, glancing down into the tiny face. Keeping the infant cradled carefully, he reaches down to the pack on the ground and, removing a jar from it, awkwardly and one-handedly tips it so that the water within wets his hand. He the reaches up to the child, and with a dripping finger traces a sign on the boy's forehead. "I name you Æthelric, son of Eboric, son of Penda, and for your birthright, you shall have a throne." There is immense pride in the big man's voice as he speaks, and even as he hands the child down to Jerica, he cannot seem to look away.
Jerica fell back either into Eboric's supporting cloak covering the pillows or his arm. Her grip released his hand and she smiled tiredly waiting for her son to be brought over. Of course, Jerica wouldn't reach for him first but let his father have that honor. This now simpering-almost-crying child was here and whole. Perfect as Daisy had said. Her eyes already began to droop when Eboric named him and she murmured, "Such a long name for a little thing." Then reached for the boy to put to her breast for his first feeding. Funny how a person just knows these things. Neither can she look away from the profile of Aethelric and a finger slides down his cheek. Jerica closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep with the newborn cradled in her arms.
Daisy finishes up the cleaning and other baby stuff that has to happen with a small smile. Good luck, new parents. She quietly wipes her paws with a wet towel and heads for the door. "Thank you," she whispers, honored to be a part of something so beautiful.
Eboric nods his own thanks to Daisy, before returning to his silent watch over his family.