To Heal A Lonely Heart

Complications

I told Jaskier what he had to do, how he'd have to support the child's body, and that he please, by every god there is, didn't freak out.

"I still don't understand why I'm the one who has to do that," Jaskier mumbled once I finished explaining.

I chuckled at him. "You see, I will be grabbing onto something, probably the hands of whoever is not guiding the child out, and I will clench hard. I could probably break your hand. You tell me what's worse."

"Not my hands! I need them. My lute..."

"See?"

"And what about my hands?" Geralt mumbled jokingly.

"You know I couldn't break them if I wanted to, minne. I'm not that strong," I smiled at him.

Hours passed, the time between the contractions becoming shorter, but the child wouldn't seem to come. Geralt had sent Jaskier to the kitchen, to prepare some food, he claimed, but worry was etching his face now.

And I too started to worry. I was in pain, the contractions now hitting every ten minutes and lasting a few seconds, but I didn't feel myself open. I was sweating and in pain.

Once the bard had left the room, Geralt was hovering above my face, closer than only a few minutes ago, cradling my sweat and tear drenched cheeks. I could see his eyes mirror my pain, and I also spotted guilt; he thought he was responsible for the state I was in, and kind of he was, still he wasn't the one to blame.

"How bad is it?" he rasped, "And don't play strong, my love. Tell me how I can help you."

"It hurts," I tried to keep my voice steady, "It hurts bad. Maybe we can try walking around a little. My mother said it would help opening the womb. Can you help me up?"

Geralt hesitated as I held my arms out for him to help me to my feet.

"Are you sure? Your legs can barely support your weight..."

"Yes, I'm sure, Geralt. If... if we don't get me to open then..." I didn't dare to finish the sentence. I banished the thought as quick as it came. No! I would not die during childbirth!

But Geralt understood what I meant. He grabbed me by my upper arms and pulled me up, guiding me to my feet and supporting me as I took one step tentative forward. I felt how the walking helped. I felt myself open slowly. Ten minutes we walked up and down the room while Jaskier watched, also worried now. We walked until my legs gave out underneath my body, but Geralt's hold on me was strong enough to keep me upright.

Quickly, he lifted me up to set me down on the bed again, but I stopped him when I felt something drip out of me.

"M-my water broke," I mumbled.

"Fuck!" Geralt took a rushed step towards the bed and set me down carefully. "What are we going to do now?"

"There's not much you can do," I pressed out through another contraction, "Oh, Great Melitele, please!"

At my words, Geralt shot up. "Melitele! That's it!" he turned to Jaskier. "Watch her. If the child comes, do what she told you to do," he commanded, rushing out of the kitchen to the main room.

"Wait! What are you doing?" I shouted after him.

"I'm not going to sit here and watch you die. I'll go get Nenneke, she'll help," he answered and the whooshing sound of a portal was heard, then the sound of my husband's heavy boots on the wooden floor and then it was quiet.

Another contraction rippled through my body and I hissed, new tears spilling from my eyes and running down my cheeks. Jaskier jumped to my side, grabbing my hand in a reassuring hold.