Hope and Devotion (Chapter One)

Hope and Devotion (Chapter Thirteen)

"Now push." The doctor commanded.

The bones in Rasler's hand felt as if they were being crushed by Ashe's vice like grip, but he stayed quiet despite the pain for her sake.

She grunted, and stopped suddenly to catch her breath. "I-I can't, it's too much." Her breaths came in quick pants, and her grip on his hand weakened as she fell back onto the bed unconscious.

"Get the blood, anesthetics, and move that cart over." He shouted to the nurses.

Rasler held on to Ashe, while the rest of the room exploded in a flurry of activity. One nurse wheeled in a cart while another one, prepared a bag of what only could be blood, and then stuck a needle of it into her arm.

He looked down at her losing track of what was happening around him. Seeing the needles, scalpels, and other instruments, made his stomach churn with anxiety, and fear for her life. He watched her chest rise and fall with each breath avoiding the doctors and nurses, as they went on in the procedure. His eyes closed, and he prayed, for the first time in years, for Ashe and the baby to make it. Despite his family's contributions to the Light of the Kiltia, he never truly put much faith in such things. But now? Well perhaps it is true that men find faith in crisis.

Ashe's hand was loose in his hand now, as she lay unconscious. He hoped that she would regain consciousness at least to be able to hold the child at least once for the doctors feared the worse for both mother and child. If they passed away he would be alone, and everything he loved gone. If only he had not pressured her into having a child, she would be safe a far, far away from this hospital, but no he had long caved into the pressures of having an heir, starting a family as quickly as possible, and their baby was another way to not feel the pain and loneliness of losing their parents. Come to think if it he never told Ashe how he truly felt about her. He loved her more than anything else in the world, and the thought of losing her was a painful and frightening one. She was always there for him, when he was ill, injured, or simply lonely and stressed. She took charge when he suffered from pain and was barely able to walk, let alone lift a sword. He grace and beauty were what first captivated him, while her passion and strength touched upon his heart.

She finally opened her eyes, after spending what seemed like an eternity unconscious. "Do I still have to push?" Her words were weary, but the grip on his hand tightened.

The doctor looked up. "So you came to? No, we had to operate in hopes of preventing more blood loss."

Her gaze lowered. "And the baby?"

"Actually you'll be seeing him right now." He handed over their infant son wrapped in a blanket, and covered in blood and fluid. "You can hold him, but only for few moments, he's very weak."

Ashe held him up to bosom and smiled for a brief second. "He's so tiny." She remarked. The child was small, just a little larger than her hand, and his skin was thin and wrinkled. Tears ran down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, if only I was stronger, you wouldn't have been born so early… I have just one selfish request, stay strong for me…" She cradled the boy, humming a few bars of an old lullaby. "I think your father wants hold you."

He looked down at his infant son, now cradled in his arms. "Welcome to the world." What was supposed to be a joyous occasion was also one of the most painful and frightening experiences for him. With Ashe's injuries and bleeding, and their baby's weakness and prematurity, he worried about the outcome of the situation and prayed for the best. He handed back the child to Ashe, who took one long look at her child before handing him back to the doctors and nurses. They carried him to a corner of the room to take care of him. The activity in the room picked up again, this time everyone was much quieter, and spoke in hushed voiced if at all. Spells were cast on the boy in a hushed voice, while they cleaned and treated him.