Misfit Trials

Chapter 30

The dwarven couple that lived in the woods was the last in their bloodline. The male had come from a line of royals. Their particular power was almost like a dowser using a diving rod to find water. But instead of water, they could find riches: gems, jewels, minerals, in the ground. The female was able to amplify his powers, making them richer beyond their wildest dreams. And while they could have kept those riches to themselves, as many of their brethren would have. Urged them to.

No, they elected to share with those that were less fortunate than they were. They were beloved by all of the people within in the kingdom and they loved their people. They elected to live a modest life, caring for their kingdom while they lived in the woods. They gathered many different kinds of people to them: magicians, fae, humans, anyone and everyone that wanted to live a peaceful and happy life.

But they weren't happy. It's true, what they say. Money can't buy happiness. The couple had tried for years, decades, to have children. Dwarves live for hundreds of years. Those years are supposed to be filled with the laughter and happiness that their children bring. The hope and love of a family.

The female cried herself to sleep for so many nights, just wishing for a babe. Just one to call her own. Though dwarves typically have many, many children, she could only beg in her nightly prayers for one. The male tried so hard to help. He consulted midwives, witch doctors, surgeons, magicians, anyone and everyone that he could. No one knew the reason that they could not get pregnant.

It wasn't until they consulted a witch that they began farming sweet rampion, parsley, and dandelion greens. The witch gave them seeds to start their garden and said that the female should eat them in a salad, cooked or raw, every day, at every meal. Within a fortnight, she should be pregnant.

And so, the female ate as much as she could of the leafy greens. Cooked, boiled, roasted, fried, raw. Mixed in scrambled eggs, sautéed with onions and potatoes, stuffed into Cornish hens. It didn't matter how she prepared them, just that she ate them.

And every night, she and the male were intimate. The greens weren't only to make her fertile. That particular mix made her and her mate rut like rabbits through the night and much of the day. They really only stopped to eat and sleep for a little while.

And the witch was right. Within a fortnight, the female was pregnant. The male worshipped not only the female, but the witch as well. He showered his wife with attention and the witch with all of the precious jewels and riches that he could. She would try to refuse, try to give them to others, saying that all she wished was for the rulers of her kingdom to be happy. They had made so many others happy, that they deserved it as well. The male didn't listen, but that was to be expected. He was too excited about the prospect of a child.

And when the boy was born? Oh he was such a beautiful and happy child. So sweet and handsome. So happy and lovable. He rarely cried or fussed. He was always happy. And the apple of his parents eye. They named him Blick.

He was quickly the most favored and favorite child of the kingdom. His parents were very happy with their little family, their son who they could pass their kingdom down to. They did not wish for any more. They had what they needed.

Oh, sure, they would have loved a bigger family. But they dared not push for more. There is a lot that magic of that caliber can do to your body. A lot that can go wrong. And there was nothing that the female would do that would allow to take her away from her son.

What she didn't know is that the magic had already affected her. It opened her womb. Not only was she able to have one child, but she gave birth to six more.

By the time that Blick was a year old, toddling around the kingdom and playing with the older kids, his mother was pregnant with his next brother, Flick.

Six months after his birth, she was pregnant with Glick.

A year after that, came Pick.

Another year later came Snick.

And a year after that came Whick.

All healthy, bright, sweet, and handsome little boys.

And the male and the female thought that they were done. Blick was seven. They had six strapping young boys to leave their kingdom to. They were happy. More than happy. Overjoyed with how their life had turned out.

That's when these stories start to turn bad, isn't it? Because none of the fairy tale characters are allowed to keep their parents. That would leave the happily ever after at the beginning and then where would the story go?

Five years later, when they thought that they were finished with kids, when the female queen was past her prime and should no longer be having children, found out that she was pregnant again.

This pregnancy was so different from her previous six. From the beginning, she was sick. All the time, day or night. She had trouble keeping any foods down other than the mixed greens that she ate to get pregnant with Blick. And when the morning sickness wore off, the fatigue and the pain of carrying a child that late in her life took over. Her ankles swole. She retained water all the time. Varicose veins moved up her legs and it was hard for her to breathe.

The greens had made the baby large, too large for her body to carry easily. And even harder for her to give birth to.

Her labor was long and hard. He was too big for her to push out. Not without damaging her irreparably. So the midwife tried to cut her, to make room for the baby to come.

But the baby had been inside her for too long. He suffered from anxoia and was blue at birth. And the female didn't make it. She died, taking her last breath just as the babe took his first.

The male keened and wailed for his mate. His queen and the love of his life. Gone in the blink of an eye. They had been together for a century. They had six, now seven boys. And now she was gone.

The male went into a deep, deep depression. Refusing to eat. Refusing to sleep. Refusing to care for his boys. Or his kingdom. Or himself.

And he died. Leave behind his seven sons, one who was an infant with special needs.

The baby was just as temperamental in the world as he had been when he was inside his mother's stomach. He wailed all the time. Had trouble eating. Rarely slept. The boys were young, Blick only 12, and the women and men of the kingdom tried to help them. But the baby, named Quee after the sound that he made over and over again, was so difficult and demanded so much that no one could stay that long.

At the same time, the kingdom started to decline, as any kingdom left in the hands of such a young heir. And the people moved away.

Within two years, they all left, leaving a 15 year old in charge of his 13, 12, 10, 9, 7, and 2 year old brothers. And that is where our story picks up.