Post by journeycat on Nov 23, 2009 14:46:54 GMT 10
Title: Of No Concern
Rating (and Warnings): PG-13
Prompt: #16 Lies
Word Count: 1,571
Summary: It was one mistake made on the part of a young, inexperienced midwife, but certainly easily fixed...right? Legends are often born of sorrow, and this is no exception.
Author's Notes: Please excuse my rudimentary knowledge of pregnancy complications. I'll admit my research was hardly in-depth
-----
The midwife kneaded the small of her back with a grimace, letting her sack slump to the floor with disregard to the breakables inside it. She leaned against the cool wall and closed her eyes. Beside her, the open door of the bedchambers shed warm light into the dark corridor, but she was loath to go inside now. It was late, and she was nearing the end of her work for that day, but she was just so cursed tired.
Ewes bore their lambs in spring, cats their kittens and dogs their pups, but no one told her people bred just as quickly!
And they didn’t tell me it would be this hard, either, Noona thought resentfully. She turned her head, eyeing the waiting doorway, and still didn’t enter. She was sick of crying babies and screeching pregnant women; she knew it was a horrible thing to feel but her guilt just made her angrier.
It wasn’t like she even wanted to be a stupid midwife. It was her mother who had insisted she follow tradition—Noona was the last and only daughter in a long line of prestigious midwives, and her mother had brought her along on every healing expedition ever since she was big enough to carry the sack of vials and herbs around the village.
Why do I have to be some crotchety old midwife anyway? Noona had yelled once when she was thirteen. Why can’t I just go to Corus or Port Legann and sell pretty jewelry instead of tending to your stupid bawling villagers? And her white-lipped mother had slapped her and said, One step in Corus and you’ll be selling more than jewelry, you silly tramp. You were born to be a midwife, so be one.
Noona had tried to run away several times since then, but Ma had three mean brothers who were the best trackers of their side of Tortall and always brought her back. She had finally given up, and even tried her best to be the midwife she was supposed to be, but the worst part was her best fell pathetically short of her foremothers’ considerable talents.
Then Ma bemoaned her failure of a daughter, who never mixed potions correctly and could not tell the difference between croupy and colicky babies. And then Da had died, and Ma had moved her sons and daughter closer to the Tanners on some fief or another, because they were related through some cousin twice removed and were willing to help out their financially troubled kin.
I hope you’re happy, Ma, she thought. Here I am, nineteen and poor, but of course healing people is all the riches a woman needs, isn’t that what you think? She resisted the urge to spit. Now you’re bedridden and dying and nothing more than a ribcage with legs, and you still yell at me every damn day because I didn’t do this or some lady complains about me for that. Well, if you’re such a good healer, why aren’t you wondering why you suddenly got so sick?
Sooner or later, the arsenic is going to kill you, and then I’m free to leave this godsforsaken place and go to Corus—
“Mistress Noona?” a soft voice called from inside. “Is that you?”
Noona exhaled loudly. This lady was one of the better ones, a first-time mother with a kind smile, and she rather liked her. So she squashed her ugly emotions, plastered a smile on her face, and called back,
“Yes, milady. I’m coming in.”
The lady was propped up with fat, plush pillows, her auburn curls spread out around her face. The great mound of her belly swelled like a mountain under the sheets.
“Hello, dear,” she said. Her keen eyes, the prettiest aquamarine Noona had ever seen and by far her greatest feature, searched her face and she added sympathetically, “Rough day?”
“No more than usual, milady,” Noona acknowledged. She set down her bag more gently than before and asked, “Are you ready for your inspection?”
“I suppose. I’m still bleeding.”
A fleeting frown crossed Noona’s face, but she kept her back to the lady so she wouldn’t see it. “Still? Those herbs didn’t help?”
“No, not hardly. Is—is there a problem? Will everything be okay?”
“I’m sure everything is just fine, milady, but of course I’ll check. If you don’t mind lifting up your skirts...?”
Blushing prettily, though she had been subjected to this countless times before, the lady drew up her gown.
“Have you had any pains, milady?” Noona asked before she set to work. “Any discomfort of any kind?”
“Not that I noticed. It’s just the bleeding, but that doesn’t hurt either.”
Noona began to massage the hard belly. The lady was anxious and wringing her childlike hands. Understandable—it was probably frightening, carrying for the first time, and with twins at that. The second hadn’t even been noticed until an impressive seven months into the pregnancy, and had probably been hiding behind his or her sibling.
Her fingers met tough resistance in the form of furious kicks from both babies. We have some fighters, she thought wryly. They must be boys. That’ll be good news for milord—two strong sons to become knights.
Except—something was off—
Noona palpitated her upper abdomen with both hands. They themselves were fine and normal, but they were all wrong, oh were they ever all wrong. This can’t be, she thought in horror, carefully masking her fear. I was just here a week ago, and they weren’t breech then. They’re too crowded to have both turned so quickly...right?
But if they hadn’t turned the wrong way since then, it meant they had been breech the whole time—
—and Noona, stupid Noona the failure, had simply missed it.
I didn’t miss it, Ma, she railed silently. They weren’t breech, they weren’t!
But here was no mistaking it now. Their two heads were together in the upper abdomen, with their feet prepared to slide down the birth canal first.
Shockingly, it got worse. The babies were—low. Oddly low. All tended to drop as their birth loomed near, but this was a different sort of low. Oh, if only I had the Gift like Ma, Noona thought in frustration. Then I could figure out what’s going on.
“Milady, would you please scoot down to the edge of the bed?”
Noona knelt and began the examination.
After a while, the lady cleared her throat awkwardly.
“My husband is looking forward to the children,” she ventured. She sounded nervous; most women did during this, and some tended to talk to drown out their humiliation. “A son to carry on the family name, you see.”
“I’m sure he’ll be proud.”
“He’s a knight, but he’s more scholarly than most. He’s always buying rare collectibles from foreign libraries and such.”
“How interesting.”
“Yes, but he’s been so good to me. He’s really such a sweet man, for all his bookishness.”
“I’m sure.”
“But all he talks about are the children—he’s hoping they’ll both be sons to try for their knighthood. He wants warriors, of course, but I don’t think he’ll object to one pursuing the Gift, if one has it.”
Noona didn’t respond—her fear had just been confirmed. The babies themselves were healthy, but everything else—she was not built right for them, too thin and petite with a narrow pelvis, and now it was obvious there was something wrong with the placenta that was causing the bleeding.
And Noona, stupid Noona the failure, could have stopped it. Because it didn’t just develop, it was ongoing, and she had just not noticed it.
She was not meant to be a midwife, and now this woman was dead because of it. Because of you, Ma. If you hadn’t made me do this, you wouldn’t be dying, and you’d be here tending to her, and you wouldn’t have killed her!
“Mistress Noona? Please, is there something wrong with the babies?”
Noona turned and looked at the lady, who gazed up with fearful, trusting eyes. Her hands were clasped on her large belly, protective of those lives growing within her.
She calmed herself. It wasn’t true, that the lady would die. Of course not. There were a couple things that could be done. Most involved sacrificing the babies for the sake of the mother, but surely the husband would not risk her life for them? After all, they could always make more.
And the lady looked so frightened—she shouldn’t be troubled with it. Noona would deal with it just fine when it happened, and no one would be the wiser. Besides, it could mean her reputation if it was found out she didn’t catch such a thing—she was a midwife, for the Mother’s tit, and she needed the coins to secure passage to Corus, once her mother snuffed it.
There were herbal teas and strong potions that could be taken, to aid the lady’s strength...but no, she didn’t need them and she would ask what they were for. Noona made a mistake, but of course she could fix it. The lady didn’t need to know there was a problem—it would just distress her and anger her lord.
No, there was no need to even suggest she was in any danger.
So the young, confident midwife said reassuringly, “Of course not, Lady Marinie. Everything is just fine.”
Rating (and Warnings): PG-13
Prompt: #16 Lies
Word Count: 1,571
Summary: It was one mistake made on the part of a young, inexperienced midwife, but certainly easily fixed...right? Legends are often born of sorrow, and this is no exception.
Author's Notes: Please excuse my rudimentary knowledge of pregnancy complications. I'll admit my research was hardly in-depth
-----
The midwife kneaded the small of her back with a grimace, letting her sack slump to the floor with disregard to the breakables inside it. She leaned against the cool wall and closed her eyes. Beside her, the open door of the bedchambers shed warm light into the dark corridor, but she was loath to go inside now. It was late, and she was nearing the end of her work for that day, but she was just so cursed tired.
Ewes bore their lambs in spring, cats their kittens and dogs their pups, but no one told her people bred just as quickly!
And they didn’t tell me it would be this hard, either, Noona thought resentfully. She turned her head, eyeing the waiting doorway, and still didn’t enter. She was sick of crying babies and screeching pregnant women; she knew it was a horrible thing to feel but her guilt just made her angrier.
It wasn’t like she even wanted to be a stupid midwife. It was her mother who had insisted she follow tradition—Noona was the last and only daughter in a long line of prestigious midwives, and her mother had brought her along on every healing expedition ever since she was big enough to carry the sack of vials and herbs around the village.
Why do I have to be some crotchety old midwife anyway? Noona had yelled once when she was thirteen. Why can’t I just go to Corus or Port Legann and sell pretty jewelry instead of tending to your stupid bawling villagers? And her white-lipped mother had slapped her and said, One step in Corus and you’ll be selling more than jewelry, you silly tramp. You were born to be a midwife, so be one.
Noona had tried to run away several times since then, but Ma had three mean brothers who were the best trackers of their side of Tortall and always brought her back. She had finally given up, and even tried her best to be the midwife she was supposed to be, but the worst part was her best fell pathetically short of her foremothers’ considerable talents.
Then Ma bemoaned her failure of a daughter, who never mixed potions correctly and could not tell the difference between croupy and colicky babies. And then Da had died, and Ma had moved her sons and daughter closer to the Tanners on some fief or another, because they were related through some cousin twice removed and were willing to help out their financially troubled kin.
I hope you’re happy, Ma, she thought. Here I am, nineteen and poor, but of course healing people is all the riches a woman needs, isn’t that what you think? She resisted the urge to spit. Now you’re bedridden and dying and nothing more than a ribcage with legs, and you still yell at me every damn day because I didn’t do this or some lady complains about me for that. Well, if you’re such a good healer, why aren’t you wondering why you suddenly got so sick?
Sooner or later, the arsenic is going to kill you, and then I’m free to leave this godsforsaken place and go to Corus—
“Mistress Noona?” a soft voice called from inside. “Is that you?”
Noona exhaled loudly. This lady was one of the better ones, a first-time mother with a kind smile, and she rather liked her. So she squashed her ugly emotions, plastered a smile on her face, and called back,
“Yes, milady. I’m coming in.”
The lady was propped up with fat, plush pillows, her auburn curls spread out around her face. The great mound of her belly swelled like a mountain under the sheets.
“Hello, dear,” she said. Her keen eyes, the prettiest aquamarine Noona had ever seen and by far her greatest feature, searched her face and she added sympathetically, “Rough day?”
“No more than usual, milady,” Noona acknowledged. She set down her bag more gently than before and asked, “Are you ready for your inspection?”
“I suppose. I’m still bleeding.”
A fleeting frown crossed Noona’s face, but she kept her back to the lady so she wouldn’t see it. “Still? Those herbs didn’t help?”
“No, not hardly. Is—is there a problem? Will everything be okay?”
“I’m sure everything is just fine, milady, but of course I’ll check. If you don’t mind lifting up your skirts...?”
Blushing prettily, though she had been subjected to this countless times before, the lady drew up her gown.
“Have you had any pains, milady?” Noona asked before she set to work. “Any discomfort of any kind?”
“Not that I noticed. It’s just the bleeding, but that doesn’t hurt either.”
Noona began to massage the hard belly. The lady was anxious and wringing her childlike hands. Understandable—it was probably frightening, carrying for the first time, and with twins at that. The second hadn’t even been noticed until an impressive seven months into the pregnancy, and had probably been hiding behind his or her sibling.
Her fingers met tough resistance in the form of furious kicks from both babies. We have some fighters, she thought wryly. They must be boys. That’ll be good news for milord—two strong sons to become knights.
Except—something was off—
Noona palpitated her upper abdomen with both hands. They themselves were fine and normal, but they were all wrong, oh were they ever all wrong. This can’t be, she thought in horror, carefully masking her fear. I was just here a week ago, and they weren’t breech then. They’re too crowded to have both turned so quickly...right?
But if they hadn’t turned the wrong way since then, it meant they had been breech the whole time—
—and Noona, stupid Noona the failure, had simply missed it.
I didn’t miss it, Ma, she railed silently. They weren’t breech, they weren’t!
But here was no mistaking it now. Their two heads were together in the upper abdomen, with their feet prepared to slide down the birth canal first.
Shockingly, it got worse. The babies were—low. Oddly low. All tended to drop as their birth loomed near, but this was a different sort of low. Oh, if only I had the Gift like Ma, Noona thought in frustration. Then I could figure out what’s going on.
“Milady, would you please scoot down to the edge of the bed?”
Noona knelt and began the examination.
After a while, the lady cleared her throat awkwardly.
“My husband is looking forward to the children,” she ventured. She sounded nervous; most women did during this, and some tended to talk to drown out their humiliation. “A son to carry on the family name, you see.”
“I’m sure he’ll be proud.”
“He’s a knight, but he’s more scholarly than most. He’s always buying rare collectibles from foreign libraries and such.”
“How interesting.”
“Yes, but he’s been so good to me. He’s really such a sweet man, for all his bookishness.”
“I’m sure.”
“But all he talks about are the children—he’s hoping they’ll both be sons to try for their knighthood. He wants warriors, of course, but I don’t think he’ll object to one pursuing the Gift, if one has it.”
Noona didn’t respond—her fear had just been confirmed. The babies themselves were healthy, but everything else—she was not built right for them, too thin and petite with a narrow pelvis, and now it was obvious there was something wrong with the placenta that was causing the bleeding.
And Noona, stupid Noona the failure, could have stopped it. Because it didn’t just develop, it was ongoing, and she had just not noticed it.
She was not meant to be a midwife, and now this woman was dead because of it. Because of you, Ma. If you hadn’t made me do this, you wouldn’t be dying, and you’d be here tending to her, and you wouldn’t have killed her!
“Mistress Noona? Please, is there something wrong with the babies?”
Noona turned and looked at the lady, who gazed up with fearful, trusting eyes. Her hands were clasped on her large belly, protective of those lives growing within her.
She calmed herself. It wasn’t true, that the lady would die. Of course not. There were a couple things that could be done. Most involved sacrificing the babies for the sake of the mother, but surely the husband would not risk her life for them? After all, they could always make more.
And the lady looked so frightened—she shouldn’t be troubled with it. Noona would deal with it just fine when it happened, and no one would be the wiser. Besides, it could mean her reputation if it was found out she didn’t catch such a thing—she was a midwife, for the Mother’s tit, and she needed the coins to secure passage to Corus, once her mother snuffed it.
There were herbal teas and strong potions that could be taken, to aid the lady’s strength...but no, she didn’t need them and she would ask what they were for. Noona made a mistake, but of course she could fix it. The lady didn’t need to know there was a problem—it would just distress her and anger her lord.
No, there was no need to even suggest she was in any danger.
So the young, confident midwife said reassuringly, “Of course not, Lady Marinie. Everything is just fine.”
This fic is just great though! 
