Post by devilinthedetails on Nov 21, 2021 14:22:06 GMT 10
Title: Hollow Heartbeats
Summary: Kally mourns the loss of her unborn child.
Rating: PG-13 for references to miscarriage
Hollow Heartbeats
Kally hated the sound of her own heartbeats echoing, hollow as the empty promises of joy and youth that were always snatched away before they could be realized, in her ears. Making her remember with the cutting pain of a knife how her child’s heartbeat--the child that should have been Binur’s little brother or sister--had felt in her womb, which was now so achingly barren of life. Forcing her to wonder why her heart still stubbornly marched on with its beating when her unborn child’s had stopped. How it could bear to continue to beat through this terrible, crushing grief.
Zaimid had said the baby’s death wasn’t her fault. That she mustn’t blame herself for it. That many mothers suffered a miscarriage at such a sensitive stage of pregancny. The more he insisted that she wasn’t at fault, the more she blamed herself, however illogical that was.
She wasn’t being logical. She was mourning with every ounce of her body.
Kaddar seemed to struggle to find the words to describe the depths of their sorrow or to console Kally through his own pain. Instead, he brought her the rarest flowers from his gardens. Flowers he had planted himself and nourished to blossoming fecundity. Delicate desert blooms that had been made to thrive in the harshest of climates.
She let the flowers wither and wilt on her bedside as she hid beneath the cave she created in her covers. Inhaling the sweet scent of rot. Luxuriating in the decay that smelled fetid as she felt.
“You have to come out of bed sometime, and you have to talk to me. This hiding under covers isn’t doing anyone good.” Kaddar tugged the blankets shrouding Kally away from her face, so that the shafts of sunlight piercing through the windows pierced her eyes that were unaccustomed to brightness after so long trapped in a self-enforced darkness. A darkness like a mother’s womb.
Kally had failed as a mother. She hadn’t even been able to bring her second child into the world.
She said as much to Kaddar, clutching her stomach as if she might still suffer from morning sickness even after the baby was gone. “I lost our baby, Kaddar. My mother never lost a baby.”
Her mother had given life to six children and made it look so easy. Not at all like the misery Kally’s first pregnancy had been, and certainly nothing like the failure of Kally’s second pregnancy.
“You can’t compare yourself to your mother.” Kaddar ran a gentle hand through the knotted black mess of her hair. Hair she hadn’t bothered to brush or style in days and had ordered her attendants not to touch. As if unkempt hair could be a memorial to a child lost before birth.
“You’re right.” Kally’s mouth twisted, and tears pricked at her eyes. “My mother is the Peerless, and I’m not.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Kaddar shook his head and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I love you, Kally. That’s all I’m trying to tell you in my clumsy way.”
“Love?” Kally repeated the word as if it held no meaning. Perhaps it didn’t when death stole babies before they could take their first breath. Give their first cry to a cruel, deaf, and indifferent world. “I loved the baby I carried inside me, and what was that worth? Love couldn’t keep our little baby’s heart beating, could it?”
“Love can keep my heart beating.” Kaddar laid his palm across her chest. Grazing his fingers across her breasts in a way that made her suck back a gasp. Her breasts were still sore and swollen from her pregnancy. The body, she recalled from healing lessons in a happier time--an innocent era when her future containing Carthak, marriage, childbirth, and miscarriage would have been inconceivable to her--mourned the loss of a pregnancy. Taking time to realize it was no longer carrying a new life inside it. “It can keep yours beating too.”
Kally wanted to snap at him that she had no desire to hear about heartbeats so soon after their unborn child’s heart had stopped beating forever, but somehow Kaddar’s words and touch had shone a glimmer of hope on her. Made her wish to believe in the enduring power of love again.
Perhaps Kaddar sensed this softening within her, because he cupped her chin tenderly. “Love will get us through this sorrow together, my dear.”
Kally wanted to accept this as truth so she eased into his touch and let herself melt into his comforting kisses.
Summary: Kally mourns the loss of her unborn child.
Rating: PG-13 for references to miscarriage
Hollow Heartbeats
Kally hated the sound of her own heartbeats echoing, hollow as the empty promises of joy and youth that were always snatched away before they could be realized, in her ears. Making her remember with the cutting pain of a knife how her child’s heartbeat--the child that should have been Binur’s little brother or sister--had felt in her womb, which was now so achingly barren of life. Forcing her to wonder why her heart still stubbornly marched on with its beating when her unborn child’s had stopped. How it could bear to continue to beat through this terrible, crushing grief.
Zaimid had said the baby’s death wasn’t her fault. That she mustn’t blame herself for it. That many mothers suffered a miscarriage at such a sensitive stage of pregancny. The more he insisted that she wasn’t at fault, the more she blamed herself, however illogical that was.
She wasn’t being logical. She was mourning with every ounce of her body.
Kaddar seemed to struggle to find the words to describe the depths of their sorrow or to console Kally through his own pain. Instead, he brought her the rarest flowers from his gardens. Flowers he had planted himself and nourished to blossoming fecundity. Delicate desert blooms that had been made to thrive in the harshest of climates.
She let the flowers wither and wilt on her bedside as she hid beneath the cave she created in her covers. Inhaling the sweet scent of rot. Luxuriating in the decay that smelled fetid as she felt.
“You have to come out of bed sometime, and you have to talk to me. This hiding under covers isn’t doing anyone good.” Kaddar tugged the blankets shrouding Kally away from her face, so that the shafts of sunlight piercing through the windows pierced her eyes that were unaccustomed to brightness after so long trapped in a self-enforced darkness. A darkness like a mother’s womb.
Kally had failed as a mother. She hadn’t even been able to bring her second child into the world.
She said as much to Kaddar, clutching her stomach as if she might still suffer from morning sickness even after the baby was gone. “I lost our baby, Kaddar. My mother never lost a baby.”
Her mother had given life to six children and made it look so easy. Not at all like the misery Kally’s first pregnancy had been, and certainly nothing like the failure of Kally’s second pregnancy.
“You can’t compare yourself to your mother.” Kaddar ran a gentle hand through the knotted black mess of her hair. Hair she hadn’t bothered to brush or style in days and had ordered her attendants not to touch. As if unkempt hair could be a memorial to a child lost before birth.
“You’re right.” Kally’s mouth twisted, and tears pricked at her eyes. “My mother is the Peerless, and I’m not.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Kaddar shook his head and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I love you, Kally. That’s all I’m trying to tell you in my clumsy way.”
“Love?” Kally repeated the word as if it held no meaning. Perhaps it didn’t when death stole babies before they could take their first breath. Give their first cry to a cruel, deaf, and indifferent world. “I loved the baby I carried inside me, and what was that worth? Love couldn’t keep our little baby’s heart beating, could it?”
“Love can keep my heart beating.” Kaddar laid his palm across her chest. Grazing his fingers across her breasts in a way that made her suck back a gasp. Her breasts were still sore and swollen from her pregnancy. The body, she recalled from healing lessons in a happier time--an innocent era when her future containing Carthak, marriage, childbirth, and miscarriage would have been inconceivable to her--mourned the loss of a pregnancy. Taking time to realize it was no longer carrying a new life inside it. “It can keep yours beating too.”
Kally wanted to snap at him that she had no desire to hear about heartbeats so soon after their unborn child’s heart had stopped beating forever, but somehow Kaddar’s words and touch had shone a glimmer of hope on her. Made her wish to believe in the enduring power of love again.
Perhaps Kaddar sensed this softening within her, because he cupped her chin tenderly. “Love will get us through this sorrow together, my dear.”
Kally wanted to accept this as truth so she eased into his touch and let herself melt into his comforting kisses.