❝we have different destinies, paul.❞
❝bullshit. we choose our own destinies, and i choose you. over and over again. always.❞
When House Atreides must uproot itself and move to Arrakis, Lia finds herself worrying more and more about Paul and the dema...
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I now understood why childbirth was described as the worst pain imaginable. That's because it was.
My contractions felt as though someone handed my unborn baby a gun and he was trying to shoot his way out from the inside. They had started to increase in frequency and I would topple over in pain as I waited for it to pass.
Paul was a great help, though. At least, as helpful as he could be. He was quick to fetch his mother, or more so screamed, and the village doctor came running in after her.
"I'm here for you," Paul consoled me, "we're going to get through this."
"We?" I exclaimed through my laboured breathing. I groaned in pain as another contraction hit me.
Paul squeezed my hand tightly. I was grateful for this as it helped distract me from my own pain, but I think the act was more for his benefit than it was for mine.
"Isn't it too early for me to be in labour?" I gasped, trying not to focus on the throbbing pain from below.
"There is no such thing as early or late," the doctor answered, "babies will come on their own time, dear. But the spice will accelerate the maturation of the fetus, which may be your case."
"Everything will be alright Ophelia." Lady Jessica comforted from my side. She was still dressed in her night attire, clearly having come straight from bed.
My eyes found Paul's again and he was looking at me with such intensity I couldn't read his emotions well. I supposed it was a mix of angst, fear, and anticipation.
"You'll be here the whole time?" I asked him, squeezing his hand tighter.
He squeezed my hand in response. "I'm not going anywhere."
The birth passed smoothly but with significant pain and cramping. I likely woke anyone within a mile radius of us with my agonizing screams. At first I couldn't get over the pain that my body was pulsating. I knew Paul was speaking to me, likely words of encouragement, but I couldn't hear his voice. The only thing on my mind was how I was going to survive through this intolerable torment. That is, until the doctor sat up with my baby in her hands.
I stared at the small little thing and I could have sworn I stopped breathing. I finally understood why anyone would endure something so painfully traumatic. It was for this moment.
He was beautiful. Not physically, because physically he looked disgusting having just been pushed from my insides. But the sight of him, knowing he was the product of something my body spent months nurturing, I felt an unknown emotion come over me. It felt as though the world stopped spinning and he was at the centre.
My intuition was confirmed when Jessica peered over the head of the doctor, her face melting at the sight. "It's a boy!"
I let out a painful laugh and realized my cheeks were wet with tears. Why was I crying? Was this normal?
