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Reynard enjoyed that silent moment with Meve as he curled himself into her body, now filled with child. In that moment he could memorise the curves in her body. Maybe more on their wedding night, when he found the woman beneath the armour. The one which he adorned himself so madly that even Meliete seems shy about their affections. Meve shifted herself to his shoulder. He could feel two hearts beating together against his chest. He grew quiet in that night, to simply observe her breathing. For once he was glad to be on her side.
A memory triggered by the howling of the wind, which Reynard heard a pained cry at the corner. Panicked servants ran up and down in the room. The burning smoke of thyme and bay leaves filled the air. One of the guardsmen, with a beard, shouted at him “Awake Reynard! The queen is in labour…”
“Gods when?”
“Since the morrow…” Reynard suddenly broke into cold sweat, he heard tales of queens in labour and succumbing to death’s hands and how the kings will weep for months, no decades until his mortal body expires. And worse the child encased in the wombs also fleeted too.
That itself is a painful thought.
If he was in that position, he would commit himself to mourn for all eternity, for all he lost.
Not Reginald sadly, he held Lyria and Rivia by his shoulders and he harks to the call of arms by a neighbouring venue of Vengerberg. He wonders for that mere moment why kings are prohibited to visit their wives in labour. A soldier mummer in his evening duty that it was superstition if a king visited the queen expected in labour that his kingdom came to ruin. A good excuse to leave by his wife’s side, to focus on fickle affairs like hunting and sporting events. Maybe he was sent as a watchman, as a key of precaution, should his enemies tried to turn the tides with poisons for the queen or any horrible circumstances that he wished not to think about. The older man noticed his paled expression, as he held him up “Apparently one of the handmaidens felt a puddle as she made her way to get fresh water for her…” His mind already filled the details of the Queen’s labour. His stomach churned just thinking of the agony she has to face, let alone with her maidens, indifferent to her pains.
“Come right now, Reynard, we need to stay guard for the queen. We pray to the gods that she will win the battle…"
Reynard moped his sweat slightly, as he quickly paced down to the closed door which he peeked through the crack of the birthing chamber. He watched maidens wrapping scrolls around her swollen belly and lighting candles to ward off evil spirits. Her wails of agony stabbed his heart. Only a messenger reassured him quietly “Do not fear, it is a battle she has to fight alone. I believe she is strong…”
These words seem to be hallowed.
He should not weep for Reginald’s wife. He should not.Reynard thought pensively. She is a person that is not his.
Why did he weep?
He wished to hold Meve’s hand during her griefs and give her comforting words in her darkest hour.
He would do just anything, even if it means to take over her pains.
Anything.
Anything for her to be safe.
Alas Reynard being different sex could do is to offer the gods his quiet prayers. The burning of incense mingled with prayers from the handmaidens proved He found his nails digging unto his knuckles, at that moment he feared that it will bleed from holding too tightly. He withheld his tears from his eyes, as he watched the other men withhold their emotions watching the clouds float by. Suddenly he heard a gasp of relief from the handmaidens, somehow one of the midwives slapped the bottom of someone. Reynard paused slightly, could it be the child they are waiting for. It rang a loud cry which leads all who stay in the ground cheered loudly with hurrahs and congratulations.
However, another voice crept by “Let me see my child…” A familiar voice. And soon his heart became at ease.
Soon a handmaiden with clothes caked in blood came out form the birth chamber. Her face rendered with cold sweat, but she has the warmest smile that light up the otherwise dark room. “I believe the king is happy that the queen indeed bore a son…” Reynard clutched her dirtied sleeve “Is her majesty well…” Tears slowly streamed down his face “Is she well?”
“Reynard..she is well…”
“I must….” Reynard blurted slightly “…I must….I must see our grace, my king…my king…” His heart swelled with joy and relief. He swore that tears nearly spilt on his face “He needs to know the…” The handmaiden held his gloved hand comfortably “Now Reynard… you must be patient Reynard…the queen has a long evening….” Reynard paused slightly, his heart sank that he will be unable to convey his wishes to her. “But we will see by the morn how she is…” She glanced at him quietly, draping a small locket back to her supple neck. She gave him a reassuring kiss “You better rest Reynard, we too can thank the gods that Meve won the battle…"
Reynard stood by patiently at the birth-chamber, in fact, last night he could finally fall asleep at last. His face barely touched the sunlight and he stood with ease on the next order. Soon a voice came in “I suppose Reynard waited for that day, we announce to Reginald that we bore a son…” He glanced at Meve’s weary face as one of the handmaidens tried to wring out the bloodied cloths in the bed. She held the babe quietly. He seems to hold his father’s looks. “I have yet to think of a name of him, I was thinking something like….” She heard the child whimper slightly, and she gave him a soft kiss. Even before he could congratulate her for bearing a son, his eyes welled up in tears and Meve raised an eyebrow in confusion.
“Reynard, why do you weep? Did the servants gave you some bad food or maybe you are ill…”
However, Reynard found himself to be rendered by silence, as he leaned himself on the wall and covered his face. Meve glanced at him quietly “No….I mean… your grace…I am…” A lump formed in his throat, he thought of his nightmares that she will die from childbirth. Meve, gone, he could never comprehend that.
Somehow sobs filled up the room, Meve took whatever strength she has, to walk by Reynard side, passing the child to the wet nurse. Sunlight encased to her like the passing statues of mother Meliete on the passageways whenever he accompanied Reginald from his hunts. She was indeed beautiful even after the harrowing battle of childrearing.
“Do not weep…” Meve assured him quietly “I appreciate that you care for me…I am well, it was not my fate. Mine laid with the gods..“
Meve smiled quietly “I never understand why do you weep when you saw me at my worst…” as her fingers lazily caressed his greying hair. Reynard could only do is to smile. “I thought by the gods that they will snatch you when you birthed Villem…"
“Are you daft…”
“I am not…” Reynard swallowed his fear, as he glanced at the ceiling “I mean I fear the day when I lose you. Gods if they are not kind to you oh I will be lost Meve. I will be lost…"
Meve’s laughter echoed the air on his proclamation. He feared the day when that day comes when she found out she is bearing a child. Quietly she placed his hand unto her stomach. “… I have you now Reynard…I will ordinate the court for you to be with me when the child comes…” She heaved quietly “I think the gods will be kind to me, look if we fought for the lands, surely I and our child will be in safe hands…”
And it is that sincerity that brought Reynard such comfort.
“Now go and rest Reynard….” Meve commanded playfully “We have a day to take on…balls to attend, treaties to be signed and…” and slowly she drifted off to sleep. Reynard pushed her fringe slightly and kissed her by her forehead. Just to hear her breathe is indeed a beautiful moment and he wishes to never depart from her forevermore.