𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 || ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 - ᴋɪɴɢ'ꜱ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ.

—— • ° ☽ ★ ☾ ° • ——
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 –
ᴋɪɴɢ'ꜱ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ.
ᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ – ɢʟᴏʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏʀᴇ
—— • ° ☽ ★ ☾ ° • ——

Then

AN ECHO OF SCREAMS
coiled and ripped, muffled and distant as the noise sang. Wretched and raw as it tore from one's throat, most definitely cutting into the soft velvety walls.

It was the only sound that could be heard from a great distance, the only sound that tore straight through his skin, hooked around his bones and shook a piercing ache of sympathy straight to his rapidly beating heart.

And it all came from behind the sealed door.

The one he had been banned from approaching, from keening open and satisfying his curiosity to peer inside. The one he was not allowed to step through for two reasons – because he was a man and this was a woman's business, and because technically speaking, he was simply the foot soldier – not the husband, not the brother, no one of close enough value to be inside.

And so he sat there, outside of the sealed door, forcing himself to endure the sound of her wretched screams because he had convinced himself that it was his only way of somewhat easing her pain – that by having to listen to her pain, he was going through the same amount of agony and therefore, it somehow made it better.

He knew that if he had voiced these thoughts to her, that it would earn himself a slap up the head or even a glare twice as lethal for thinking something so stupid – but it was the best that he could do in his situation.

Uhtred and Sihtric had left an hour or so ago, unable to listen to her pain, to endure her agony like he had forced upon himself. Hours he had sat, within the confines of an uncomfortable chair, his posture twisting and turning to ease the numbness that spread across a specific part of his body.

He was there when her water broke, and he would be there until the end – or at least until she told him to leave.

It seemed like forever before the screams finally settled, dulling out into pained whimpers and panting breaths that seemed far to loud to be heard from the other side of the door.

A deep silence descended upon the land. Outside, he could hear the call of the ocean, chanting against the quiet. Then, a shrill cry splintered the silence and Finan tensed at the noise of it prickling against his skin.

It took him a lingering moment to regain himself, to pull himself out of the daze that encrusted his reality. He felt sick – sick with nausea, with fear, joy, worry. It settled deep in his belly, swelled with an ache and caused his insides to spiral.

If he was feeling all these things, he could only wonder how she was feeling.

Then, he was taken aback when the door keened open and the baby's cry grew louder, sharper. Finan flinched and stood immediately from his seat, with enough pressure to push the chair back if it hadn't already been pressed against the wall.

His eyes settled not on the midwife, but rather the screaming infant within her arms, refusing to settle.

"He won't settle." She panicked, her eyes locked onto his face, taking in his out of focused expression. "Lady Freyja refuses to hold him. He needs to be fed –"

That seemed to snap the irish out of it and his feet got moving, long, quick strides approaching the young, worried woman. Carefully, he held out his arms, ignoring the look of uncertainty as he gently lifted the bub into his arms.