In Which Rona Is the Best Sort of Terrified

November 18, 1178

Rona's mother had passed out giving birth to Xeta. She wasn't sure if that was common or not, but it had never happened during any of the births she'd witnessed, so she'd assumed it wouldn't be a problem for her.

Judging by the sudden jump in time, though--not to mention, the ache in her thighs and the strange, empty feeling of her still-bloated core--the baby she'd been shoving out seconds prior had now been gone for... an hour? Two? She couldn't guess. She'd never done this before. Or, she had, but she didn't remember it.

Didn't remember it. Was she such a horrible mother already? Unable to recall the moment her baby came into the world?

And speaking of the baby... "Where is...?"

"You're awake."

Ashe? Rona rolled onto her back and blinked the blurry figure into focus. Not that there was any mistaking that red hair. "You're here." The left corner of his mouth pulled his lips into a sheepish half-smile. "How long have you been here?"

"Longer than the baby has."

The voice was not Arydath's, but Nanalie's. Had Arydath had some other birth? No, she'd been here before... hadn't she? But apparently Ashe had, and Rona didn't remember that...

"He came in shortly after you passed out and refused to leave. Every once in a while we get a man who gets it in his head to do that, but most of them can't handle it. Not your man, though. Arydath said she'd never seen a man so collected."

Something in her chest twitched. It was a feeling so long gone she'd nearly forgotten it. "You sat through a birth for me?"

One shoulder barely rose, as if it were nothing. It wasn't, but maybe that was his way of telling her that her questions had been disordered. Still blinking more frequently than was comfortable, Rona folded back her arms and pushed herself upward. "Is the baby all right?"

"She's fine."

A girl! She'd been sure of it. Not that she wouldn't have loved a little boy, but she'd known from the minute Arydath had hinted at the baby's existence that it had to have been a girl. "Can I see her?"

Nanalie smirked. "Of course you can see her, silly. You're her mother; you can see her any time you like."

And what time would she not have liked? Ashe stood and offered his hand and she let him help her out of bed. Her legs were so sore that standing might have been a Herculean task if not for that crutch of anticipation.

"Thank you." She let go of her husband's hands, resting her own around his shoulders. Her wedding ring glinted in her sight's lower edge. She didn't think she'd seen it sparkle quite like that before. "Does she have your eyes?"

"No." It didn't hurt as much as she'd thought it would. "I think she has your sister's eyes."

"My father's, then." Not that she would have remembered all that well--but her mother said as much, every time she saw Xeta or Ricky. "I suppose they're pretty eyes too."

"They certainly are on her," piped up Nanalie as she crossed behind Ashe's back. "I'll just leave the three of you alone, shall I? Arydath and I will both stay close in case you need us."

She flashed a last grin before stepping out the door, pulling it shut behind her. Ashe stepped back, his hands dropping to Rona's sides, green eyes wide with a curious concern. "Would you prefer to stay in the bed and have me bring her to you, or...?"

"No. I can stand." Ashe nodded. Rona leaned on his arm and followed him to basket at the foot of the bed, her head spinning and her heart skipping beats and her soul loving every minute of it. Her baby was here. Her baby had survived and she too had lived to meet her. All those months of private fears and brave faces were finally behind them. "I've never been so happy."

Ashe reached into the bed and a tiny hand stretched out to greet him. "Not as happy as you'll be in a second."

He was right.

One day, she would have a daughter named Aspen--she had promised herself as much. But this little girl was not her. She was herself--blond, blue-eyed, plump and perfect. She didn't even look like either of her parents; her Aunt Xeta, perhaps, or her grandparents on Rona's side, but not Rona and Ashe themselves. But if anything, she felt even more their own. She was not simply an extension of Rona or of Ashe or of anyone else. She was a whole new person, a precious speck of gold sprung by some miracle from their leaden loins. She was unfathomable in the most beautiful of ways.

"Hello, sweetie."

The baby stared up as Ashe placed her in Rona's arms. She would have sworn she saw a tiny smile. "Aww, Ashe, she's perfect. I can't believe we made her."

"No kidding."

Precious angel feet pattered about as Rona brushed her lips across her daughter's brow. There was no softness quite comparable. "Mama's so excited to finally meet you."

The baby let out a light coo when Ashe landed a tickle on her stomach. "Looks like Papa is too."

He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. She knew he was scared. Why wouldn't he be? She was scared too. Was there any more frightening prospect, really--such responsibility, such tremendous stakes? Anyone with half a brain would have been terrified.

But it was the best sort of terrified there was.

NEXT CHAPTER: