𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝑨𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑, peter pevensie

𝒙𝒙𝒊𝒙 . . . louise's tragic demise

"𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐔. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 one more push. One more push and it will all be over." Charlotte was stood by Louise as she screamed and cried out in pain. She was shaking her head furiously, brunette locks of hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. Charlotte pushed them out of her eyes, then turned desperately to Ambrose for any form of help. "Would you - ow! no no, Lou, my hand's fine, you don't need to worry - would you tell her just one more push, Ambrose, please?"

Louise's waters had broken at one o'clock the previous morning, and since her child was to be born out of wedlock, or a 'bastard child' in the eyes of the Tisroc and the nobility, she'd been staying at the castle of Cair Paravel for the past nine months, with no public appearances being made by her over the passing months.

Charlotte had been woken up at half past one of the same morning, and had been planted firmly by her side for the past thirty two hours. Neither had gotten a single wink of sleep, but that was to be expected when one was giving birth, and the other had refused to leave the room for one single moment. Meaning, she was still wearing her night dress and robe.

"She's right, Louise. It's just one more big push for me. One more and you'll be done." Charlotte had been keeping up a brave face through out the whole labour process, but her insides were twisting and turning around, writhing in discomfort. She kept quiet though, for she was in no place to complain when her best friend was about to give birth.

However, something of much bigger concern was pressing down hard with a heavy hand on Charlotte's mind. She was no midwife or nurse, but had no doubt in saying that the amount of blood Louise was losing was definitely something to be considered far from normal during the process of child birth.

The hushed, desperate whispers between the badger and multiple dryads, the towels that had to be changed every ten minutes because they were dripping with heavy flows of blood, none of it seemed to go unnoticed by the ever observant Extraordinary Queen.

"Lottie, I can't - oh fuck! - I can't do this for much longer! Tell me I'm nearly finished, dear Aslan Lottie, when will it be over?" Louise's head dropped onto Charlotte's right shoulder after one last, particularly painful, push. The shoulder of her night dress and robe began to turn wet with warm salty tears, and the distinct wail of a new born baby rand through the room, echoing off of the walls.

Louise just cried more as her child was passed to her, while Charlotte wiped her forehead down with a cold cloth, kissing her on the cheek out of sheer pride. She didn't notice that her hand was cramping up.

"It's a girl, Louise. Do you have any ideas for a name?"

"A few." Her throat was dry, meaning her voice was raspy, but Ambrose heard her perfectly well.

"And I do hate to be the bringer of such bad news in a light and beautiful time, but you-"

"I may wish to be quick. I know." Ambrose nodded his head at the Calormen Princess, then left the two to have their last minutes together.