Mo shíorghrá

Sad passings

King Deegan paced the throne room, pausing only to try and listen for any change in the dead silence. He had known the pregnancy was too much for his love, his Aoife. She had struggled for months with menial tasks and even walking in the end had been too much for her. He shook his head as he recalled the conversation with the Dochtúir, his world had come crashing down and he knew he must now save face in front of his kingdom. Mila was strong kingdom but the loss of their beloved queen would certainly come as shock to everyone and then there was the question of the baby, Aoife had named her Emma with her last breath. King Deegan stopped pacing and sat wearily down on his throne, the one opposite his would now remain empty unless he chose to fill it again. The thought made him sad and tired. There was no one like Aoife and there never would be.

"Your majesty", came a familiar voice. 

King Deegan raised his head and welcomed his advisor with a nod. The advisor walked slowly up to the thrones and bowed his head. "My deepest condolences your majesty losing ones chéile must be extremely difficult, if you do not mind me saying so". The advisor raised his head an inch, just enough to look and see if he had offended the king. It seemed he had not as the king just sighed. "Ardan, you can stand up I am not offended". Ardan stood tall and went to comfort his oldest friend. Deegan accepted his friend's comfort and fought off tears as he asked Ardan to compile a speech. "The people must know of this tragedy and I trust you to get word to our moon worshipping fellows of the north, the Makuria are our brothers Ardan and they will want to say their farewells". The king finished giving Ardan his duties and then made his way up to the royal suite, one which he must learn to sleep in alone. 

Nurse Ashling came bumbling down the hallway in search of the king. "Your majesty Emma is well and she is with our sister Aideen who will be looking after her for you". She took a bow and waited for her kings reply. King Deegan breathed slowly in and out, coming to terms with the newborn child who needed a mother, he was inept to provide her with one and the thought made him unhappy all over again. He mumbled a thank you to Ashling and told her he needed to rest for tomorrow the upheaval would begin. She bowed one last time and took her leave. The king entered his bed chambers and got ready for a long night of grieving sleep. He lay on his blankets and thought about the first time he had lain eyes upon Aoife. She had been wearing red, a long flowing dress made of the finest silk. She was the daughter of King Art, a fine king who was without jealously or fear. He had made an appearance with his daughter at King Deegan's annual winter solstice and from that point on he could think of no other woman or decree.