Dark Flower Ch. 13 (previously The Flower Ch. 7)

[Mikayla]

The Flower, Part 7: Seeds

***

A cold north wind blew through the pines of Lonelywood as the sun set. Here and there the wind picked up snow and sent clouds of white, icy powder twirling between the trees and cottages of the village. In one cottage Jain’n, the lord of Lonelywood, sat silently in front of a bright fire, his humble house an inviting oasis of warmth amidst the desolate cold outside.

Sheyreiza sat with Jain’n. She knew all to well the cause of his silence. Jain’n’s friend and companion, Vraja, had been slain fighting a frost giant two days earlier. Jain’n had buried his friends in the holy burial ground where the guards of the emperors traditionally laid to rest. Vraja’s spirit had appeared then, to thank Jain’n and say good-bye.

Now, Jain’n grieved the loss. He had admitted to Sheyreiza that he grieved not for Vraja, was happier now in Arvandor, but for himself. The loss of Vraja’s companionship hurt him.

Sheyreiza did not understand his grief. She sat with Jain’n on a rug in front of the fire, Jain’n’s head in her lap, playing with his hair. Other members of the community were also there enjoying the warmth of the fire, including Lady Rilralia and Inthara.

“Vraja walks in Arvandor now.” Shey said. “His struggle is over. He has done what he needs to do and his gods have welcomed him. What more is there?”

Rilralia nodded in agreement, holding her belly, as she was quite pregnant with twins. “He is in a better place now.” She added.

Jain’n did not reply, he just lay in Sheyreiza’s arms looking into the fire. Sheyreiza continued, talking about the boon that Vraja had received. She spoke of Vraja’s spirit and how Vraja had thanked Jain’n. Once, he had been a lost soul, but Jain’n and Lonelywood helped Vraja find himself. Vraja’s purpose in this life had been accomplished. There was nothing more for him here. It was time for him to move on.

Sheyreiza compared Vraja’s death with her own experience. Sheyreiza had died once, but under much different circumstances. Unlike Vraja who refused raising, Sheyreiza was only too happy to come back to the realm of the living. She envied Vraja. Not that Sheyreiza wanted to die, but she wanted to want that. No, that was not quite right – she wanted to be satisfied with her life, to have accomplished what she needed to accomplish; to have fulfilled her purpose.

Jain’n looked up at her smiling. “Thank you.” Was all he said. He rose and took Sheyreiza’s hand. “Would you take a walk with me?” He asked the drowess. Sheyreiza nodded. The two said good-bye to the other elves and stepped out into Lonelywood’s night. Jain’n led Sheyreiza through the village to the faerie trod, to the heart of Lonelywood, and from there, on to where he liked to spend his time when he was surveying his lands. There was a tower ruin there, and a tent. It was Jain’n’s private home, such as it was.

The two talked for a while, of the woods, of Sheyreiza’s enemies and those who might hunt her, of the elves that had left the woods and of Vraja. As they talked, Jain’n held Sheyreiza, her indigo black skin and naked body standing in stark contrast to his tanned skin and golden clothing. He kissed her, and then he kissed her again. She kissed back.

Sheyreiza felt a heat between her legs, a longing, and one that had not been satisfied for a long time. Not since her long past lover Hartex in Skullport. This heat was accompanied by something else, however, something Hartex had never inspired in her. Passion. A burning fire not only between her legs but also in her heart and in her soul. She wanted Jain’n inside her, but not just inside her sex. She wanted Jain’n insider her life. She wanted Jain’n inside the walls she had built around her heart. She wanted Jain’n inside her insecurities and fears and hate and mistrust.

Pulling on him with her arms she pressed against him with her naked body, kept warm by the magical stone she wore at her neck and now by the fire that was building inside of her. Though she and Jain’n had played at being lovers they had not actually lain together in all the months of her captivity nor had they consummated their passion upon her release. She wanted him. She needed him.

Sheyreiza kissed him with a passion she did not know she possessed and offered herself to him without reservation in a way she would have thought unthinkable just six months earlier.

Jain’n responded, sinking down onto the furs laid out beneath the pair and pulling Sheyreiza down with him. His hands roamed over her silken skin, touching her, exploring her, inflaming her. For Sheyreiza, each touch, each caress, was electric. Each sent a chill through her. Each pushed her closer to the edge of losing control. Still, Jain’n was not getting undressed. As Sheyreiza’s passion grew, so to did her fear that Jain’n was toying with her again, teasing her, but not intending to fulfill that passion, that need, which he had sparked.

Just as Sheyreiza started feeling around for her dagger so she could ‘make’ Jain’n take her, Jain’n took her. He rolled her over onto her back, stripped off his clothes and entered her. Sheyreiza wanted to scream, laugh, smile and cry all at once.

So she did.

***

Jain’n held Sheyreiza as she looked out of the tower ruins on Lonelywood’s snowy landscape. Playfully, he pulled at her naked body, urging her back into the small tent where they had been staying.

Sheyreiza smiled. Their time here had been a wonderful. She sighed. They had been here a long time though.

“It has been nine days, love.” She said. “I think your subjects would like to see you. Indeed, I think they need to see you. I am selfish, but I should share you with them, at least a little.”

Jain’n smiled and nodded. “Yes, you are probably right. We can always come back anyway.” He let go of her and set about dressing and packing. She turned and watched him. Nine days of bliss. For nine days she had not been a drow or elf or a priestess or a prisoner or anything other than this man’s lover. For that same nine days, he had not been a lord, a Ar-Tel-Quessir, a foe, a friend, a savior, or anything but her lover. For nine days their world had been these tower ruins, the tent, the trees and each other. For nine days, Sheyreiza knew what it was to be happy.

Yes, they could come back, but there would never be another nine days like these. These were the first and they were special. Sheyreiza had never known a time like this. She had not even known it was possible. She was not a sexual virgin, not even close, but she was a virgin to love and a virgin to peace. She knew both now, or had, for nine straight days. She did not want to give it up, but she knew it had to end. As Jain’n prepared to leave the camp, she smiled and fought to keep the tears from coming.

***

A foot? That is not supposed to be there. Sheyreiza thought. I should be able to feel the head, not the foot.

Sheyreiza kneeled in an expanding pool of steaming blood that had already melted the snow beneath her. In front of Sheyreiza, Lady Rilralia lay on her back, writhing in pain. Rilralia was deep in labor. The twins were coming sooner than expected. She was, like Mariianna, determined to have her babies in the holy circle, so there she lay in the snow, surrounded by the rest of the community.

As Sheyreiza was the only female to have experience delivering babies other than Rilralia, Sheyreiza once again found herself playing mid-wife. There were complications; not only was the mother having twins, the first one was also headed out legs first.

Sheyreiza closed her eyes for a moment as she felt inside of Rilralia’s sex, confirming what she felt a moment ago. It was definitely a breach birth.

“Rilralia, I need you to take a deep breath and be strong. There is a problem.” Sheyreiza said.

“She has passed out.” Said Anolesa.

Sheyreiza looked up. Rilralia’s writhing had stopped. The red-haired elf lay motionless, her head to the side.

Perhaps it was best, Sheyreiza thought. What would come next would be painful for Rilralia. Very painful.

Sheyreiza reached up inside of the mother-to-be and began trying to turn the first baby. She knew this was likely futile, but she had to try. Her hands kept slipping. She could not move the baby at all. As she tried to turn the child, she felt something else wrong. The cord. The first baby’s umbilical cord was wrapped abound the second baby’s chest.

Rilralia contracted, her body spasming with the pulse pinching Sheyreiza’s hands. Sheyreiza heard Ril scream. Blood began to flow as if from an open vein. The struggle had begun in earnest, and it was truly a life or death struggle.

Deep inside Rilralia, Sheyreiza’s hands fought to untangle the babies and the cord. The babies struggled to be free. Rilralia struggled to live. Anolesa struggled to keep Rilralia alive. All of them were running out of time. Long, tense minutes passed as Shey tried to free the children Time and time again she would get a grip on the cord only to have it slip away. Rilralia continued to pass from consciousness to unconsciousness and back, all the while bleeding more and more profusely. Anolesa chanted healing spell after healing spell and these were, at the moment, the only thing keeping Rilralia alive. Anolesa’s healing magic was not limitless, however, and Sheyreiza knew if she did not get the babies out soon, Anolesa would run out of spells and Rilralia would bleed to death. Mother and twins would be lost.

As the women settled into their struggles, they settled into an eerie, desperate silence broken only by Anolesa’s periodic healing chants, Shey’s labored breathing and Rilralia’s infrequent screams. None of them spoke. They all knew this struggle was for Rilralia’s life and the lives of her babies, and no breath would be wasted on unneeded words.

Sheyreiza’s hands found the cord. She hooked a finger beneath it and tried to pull the cord free of the second baby. The cord slipped away again. Sheyreiza pulled out her bloody hands and dragged them through her snow-white hair in frustration.

“Jain’n” she said in a low voice. “I need a sharp, thin knife. Pass the blade through the campfire, then give it to me.”

Jain’n eyes went wide. “You mean to cut the babies out, don’t you?”

“Xas..yes.” Sheyreiza replied.

A blade was produced, sterilized in the fire and passed to Sheyreiza. Shey began passing directions to Anolesa. Once Shey cut Rilralia’s belly open, the only thing standing between Rilralia and Arvandor would be Anolesa’s spells. Sheyreiza regarded Anolesa for a moment while she gave directions. Anolesa was performing well. She was brave here. Her healing had kept Rilralia alive so far, but Anolesa was young. The wound Sheyreiza would have to make to save the babies would be unlike anything Anolesa had yet healed. Was she up for it? Could the young Eilistraeen priestess do it?

Shey had witnessed a birth go bad in Qu’ellar Auvryndar. One of Sheyreiza’s sisters had to be cut open to extract the baby. Only the healing power of Matron Shyntlara had saved the mother’s life. Anolesa was brave and willing and faithful, but she was nowhere near the healer or priestess Matron Shyntlara was. For that matter, neither was Sheyreiza, if Sheyreiza had still been a priestess. Sheyreiza looked from Anolesa to Rilralia. The time was now. She had to make a decision.

“Jain’n, take the knife.” Sheyreiza said, holding out the weapon, handle first.

“What?” He said, his raised voice betraying his shock. “You want me to do this?”

Shey allowed herself a small smile. “No.” She replied. “I am going to try one more time to get them out without cutting.”

Jain’n took the knife and Sheyreiza reached back into Rilralia’s sex with her slender bloody hands. So much blood was pouring out. There was so little time. Sheyreiza gave up on turning the babies or unwrapping the cord. She gripped the first baby as best she could and pulled. Where nature and finesse had failed perhaps strength would prevail. Rilralia screamed and passed mercifully into unconsciousness again.

For a long minute, Sheyreiza struggled with the babies. A foot emerged. Then another. Still she struggled. The hips were free, but the second baby’s hand was showing. Everything was a mess. Sheyreiza was certain the cords were so tangled now the babies were likely suffocating. The little amount of time she had left was gone. It was now or nothing.

Sheyreiza pulled again and this time she prayed silently to Eilistraee for Rilralia and the babies.

The babies came free, sliding out of Rilralia in a bloody, gory, but beautiful mess. Without waiting for orders, Anolesa began healing Rilralia. Sheyreiza just stared at the babies for a moment, disbelieving their arrival. Had she really delivered breach twins? Were they alive?

They were. They were both breathing. One was pale, but other wise seemed healthy. Sheyreiza looked them over quickly as she cleaned them. One boy, one girl. The girl was the pale one, while the boy had a strange birthmark, not unlike a large drop of water.

One after the other she passed them to Jain’n who passed them to Rilralia, who, with Anolesa’s help, had regained consciousness. Once the healing was done, the cords were cut and tied, and the after birth delivered, Sheyreiza staggered off to the cottage. She was exhausted. Happy, even elated perhaps, but exhausted just the same. As she left, she spared a last look at Rilralia who know held the well-swaddled infants in her arms. She wondered if Rilralia was as happy now as Shey had been during her nine days with Jain’n. Shey hoped she was, and she hoped that happiness lasted longer than nine days for Rilralia.

It was a hope that would go unfulfilled.

***

Not more than a ten-day after the birth, the twin’s father, Sirril LaureLasse, returned to Lonelywood. He did not come alone. He brought all those he could rally to his cause, including the elven necromancer Aravilar, the dwarf priestess Faenor Bital, the dwarf priest Hignar, and even Anolesa Silversong. Anolesa had decided to leave Lonelywood, but she had come back with Sirril, though not for the twins. She had come for Inthara, whom she loved.

Sheyreiza was not in the village when Sirril came with his band. She was not there when Jain’n separated the band, naming Aravilar and Faenor as unwelcome in Lonelywood for past transgressions. She was not there when Sirril demanded one of the twins. She was not there when Jain’n told Sirril that death was all he would receive.

Jain’n, Inthara and Rilralia delivered the news. Sheyreiza’s reaction was simple. The solution seemed obvious.

“We should kill Sirril before he returns.” Shey said matter-of-factly. Rilralia’s eyes went wide, but Jain’n answered first.

“No. We will not kill Sirril. We will let him go.” Jain’n said patiently.

“Why?” Sheyreiza asked. She really was curious. Why let him go? The male had no right to claim a child. The child belonged to the female. Such was the way of life. Who was this male to ask such things? Who was this male to bring all these strangers to the village and demand anything? A dead man, that was who.

“I do not want Sirril harmed.” Rilralia said. “Shey, killing Sirril is not the answer.”

“Why not?” Sheyreiza asked. “He will come back. As soon as he finds those of his friends willing to go the extra step, willing to shed blood, he will come back.”

“Then he will die.” Said Jain’n.

“Why wait that long?” Sheyreiza asked. “Why not kill him and be done with it?”

“That is not our way, my heart.” Jain’n replied.

The argument continued for a while, but Sheyreiza was more curious than stubborn. For her part, she bore Sirril little animosity, but also saw little reason to let him live if he posed a threat. The others seemed to think differently, and for the moment, Sheyreiza was inclined to listen. If they did not want blood, so be it.

The debate trailed off and all the elves stared into the fire as Rilralia nursed. Inthara turned, hesitantly, to Sheyreiza and said she had something to give Shey. Shey was intrigued and more than slightly suspicious. Such was her nature.

Inthara’s gift was a song, or so Sheyreiza thought at first. Inthara sung of Sheyreiza, Amenia and herself. The Flower, the Oak and the Butterfly. She sung of their time in Skullport, the enemies they made and struggles they faced. She sung of their desperate flight to the surface and their even more desperate flight across it. She sung of their capture and of their imprisonment, and she sung of love.

When Inthara finished, it became clear to Sheyreiza that the gift was not really the song; the gift was nothing less than Inthara’s love.

It was a gift Sheyreiza did not know what to with. Jain’n had given her love and that gift had changed Sheyreiza’s whole world. What would she do with Inthara’s love? What would Inthara’s love do to Sheyreiza?

She did not know.

She held Inthara for awhile as Inthara’s emotions came out through her tears. The song had been hard to sing and the emotions hard to express, but the Butterfly had needed to do it.

All of this set Sheyreiza thinking. Could she love more than one person? Could she be loved by more than one person. Sheyreiza looked to Rilralia. Rilralia was holding the twins. Clearly she loved them both, and just as clearly, she felt very strongly for Sirril despite his recent actions. Rilralia probably loved Jain’n too, and perhaps she had loved Vraja. Could someone really love more than one person? It seemed so. What did that mean? What was the cost?

Rilralia needed to nurse, so she handed Sheyreiza the boy-child. As Rilralia uncovered her breast and let Ellewyn suckle, Sheyreiza stared into the eyes of Salkieryn.

There was another Sheyreiza loved.

Sheyreiza quickly passed the infant to Jain’n. “I need to rest.” She said curtly. Sheyreiza left the group of elves huddled in front of the fire and went upstairs. Jain’n passed Salkieryn to Inthara and followed Shey.

Upstairs, Sheyreiza sat upon one of the fur rugs and pulled her cloak around her. Her breathing slowed and she began to relax. Jain’n came and sat next to her, as he often did. The male was fond of resting with Sheyreiza as she passed into reverie. Sheyreiza was now fond of having him there.

“Jain’n, I need to ask you a favor.” She said softly.

“Anything, my heart.” He replied, smiling.

“I need you to train me. Not in the skills of a priestess, for I am not really a priestess any longer, but in combat and stealth.” Her eyes were fluttering a bit now, as she slowly sank into her trance.

Jain’n replies, but Sheyreiza did not really hear his words though she heard his question just the same. She answered it as best she could.

“There is something I need your training for.” She said, her voice faraway now. “There is something I need to do.” Sheyreiza’s eyes closed.

Jain’n looked at her, a shadow of concern, of fear, passing over his face.

“You mean to go after your son, don’t you?” He asked.

There was no reply; Sheyreiza had slipped into reverie.

[Zakharra]

All I can say Mik is...wow. You tie things in so well, and tied my story into yours very well indeed. It is nice to have different sides to a story.

[Virvaldin]

If anyone kills that drow IC I will metagame my ass off to hunt you down and kill you for ending a great book way to early.

If you need an escort Mik, let me know.... just... umm... wear a helmet. Oh.. and leathers.. tight leather *grins* you should be given the gift of full human.. not a thin pencil elf

Great stuff Mika.

[Blindhamsterman]

again Myk you have outdone yourself, that was another great read and I really do hope that once your finished you compile them into a PDF filling in the gaps where nessacary lol, then we have our first ALFA book..

p.s. Keep up the great work, maybe I'll get a mention soon, or my child lol

[Zakharra]

p.s. Keep up the great work, maybe I'll get a mention soon, or my child lol

Umm...you have to have met our PCs to be in this book..

[Blindhamsterman]

Ive been to Lonelywood and am infact moving there with my child so Jain'n said it was okay after a long discussion

just waiting on a BG DM to come take my Selwyn and move her to TFN...

[Trebor]

Fantastic story(ies)

Always a great read

Wow..another child. I think we'll be running a nursery soon

[mr duncan]

yes,mikayla, youve done wonderfully again.

[mxlm]

Impressive, Mik. The whole series, as a matter of fact.

Kudos