stats :: candidate :: sr.weyrling :: jr.weyrling :: talis weyr :: quinalt weyr
Nooli clenched her teeth against the pain as another contraction rippled through her body. She knew her father was outside, waiting to hear her scream. He would laugh if she did. His weak little Nooli, too weak even to give birth without screaming. So she bit back her pain and dutifully took a deep breath as the midwife encouraged her too.
"You're so strong!" the midwife cooed. "Many young mothers would be screaming their heads off by now."
Nooli wanted to reply that she wasn't strong; she just didn't want to give her father the satisfaction of hearing her scream, but had she opened her mouth the words would have come out as screams, so she just grunted and concentrated on blocking out the pain.
Pain.
That was all this babe had brought her. All that wherry-dung about motherly joy she had been told was lies. Being pregnant was torture, and the end of it was worse. And then she'd have to live with the foul thing. She could have gotten rid of it long before this had her father not threatened not to arrange a marriage for her if she didn't keep it. "No man wants a woman who won't even keep her child," he had told her.
So Nooli had endured nine long, endless months of this torture, and it wasn't even her fault. Her father, of course, told her it was hers; she should never have taken wine from a man she didn't know. But he was a dragonrider, and it was at a Gather. And weren't you supposed to be able to trust dragonriders? Who could have known he would put fellis in her wine?
Her mother's voice, a voice she hadn't truly heard in three turns, floated into her head. "When you have a child, Nooli," she had said as she went through much the same thing Nooli was going through now, "your husband will be there beside you. Not away on Hold business like your father is now." Well, her mother had been wrong. She was alone. Only an old midwife to help her. The man responsible for doing this to her far away, oblivious to the fact that his child was being born.
Another contraction cut into Nooli's thoughts, this one more painful than any of the others, and Nooli gripped the edges of the bed to keep herself from crying out. "Not too much longer, dear," the midwife said kindly, giving Nooli's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Just a few more big, strong pushes."
Nooli felt a ripping sensation and heard the midwife telling her to push. So she pushed. Pushed hard enough, she hoped, to at last get the last physical reminder of that dragonrider out of her body. The pain ceased, or at least wasn't as bad, and Nooli leaned back on the pillows and furs, exhausted.
The babe -her babe, she reminded herself disgustedly- was crying loudly which meant it must be alive. Nooli wasn't sure whether she was supposed to be happy or sad about this. She really didn't care except that the babe wasn't her problem anymore. She could give it to some foster-mother and be done with it. The final tangible reminder of what had happened to her gone.
Or not gone. The midwife had wrapped the babe in a hide and was handing her to Nooli, who put her arms out mechanically; it was expected that she should love this child who she hated. "A beautiful daughter," the midwife said in a sing-song voice.
Nooli stared blankly ahead, refusing to look down at the crying babe in her arms. "Yes," she replied blandly. "Take her."
The midwife looked like she would faint from suprise. "Are you not feeling well enough to hold her, dear?"
"I am as well as I could be after being ripped apart," Nooli told her. "I just don't want her. Take her."
"But Nooli, she's you're child!" the midwife exclaimed. "You're her mother! You should have thoguht about what happens before you jumped into bed. G-"
"I didn't get to think!" Nooli snarled, resisting the urge to drop the babe. She wasn't a murderer. "I was drugged, then raped! I don't want to be reminded of that! Take her!"
The midwife, flustered and a bit afraid of Nooli, nodded and took the babe, cradling her protectively to her chest. Protecting her from her crazy mother. "I'm sure you'll feel differently after a day, dear. Maternal instincts will kick in sooner or later. I'll put her with a milk-mother for now and the-"
But the poor old midwife didn't get to finish that sentence either, because Nooli's father Norislal flung open the door. "How's my daughter doing?" he boomed as he strode over to the midwife. "Let her see her child, woman!"
"She says she doesn't want her," the midwife told him, voice a bit shaky. "I'm going to her to a milk-mother, there's a couple who has a new baby who said they could take a second."
"Nonsense!" Norislal roared, taking the babe from the midwife's arms and grinning at her before depositing her in Nooli's lap. "She's a beauty Nooli, be proud of her."
Nooli stared straight ahead, chin tilted up defiantly. "No. I am not proud of her. The midwife is taking her to a milk-mother. That's where the daughters of seventeen-turn-olds should go."
"You will keep her and raise her as you would have had she been born to you when you were married!" Norislal commanded. "Your mother was only twenty three when you were born, and she didn't give you to a milk-mother."
I wish she had, Nooli wanted to say to her father, then I wouldn't have had to put up with you. "I will not keep her. If I keep her, I will not care for her. She will die." Nooli had no intentions of letting the babe die, but she new that would encourage the midwife to take the babe to a milk-mother.
Predictably, the midwife snatched the babe away from Nooli. "Norislal, I know you want to teach your daughter responsiblilty, but not at the expense of the babe's life!"
Norislal pried the babe, who was crying by now, from the midwife's arms and put it back in Nooli's lap. "She will not let her die," Norislal chuckled. "Nooli doesn't have the stomach for it. Don't worry about the babe. You've been a great help, Turuna," he led the midwife to the door. "I'm sure you are needed elsewhere."
The midwife began to protest but allowed herself to be pushed out of the room. Norislal followed, closing the door, leaving Nooli alone with her daughter.
For the first time, Nooli looked down at her daughter. Her face was beet red and her eyes were closed and her little pudgy hands flailed about in the air. She was sort of cute... No. She was the result of rape. Not cute. A person who should never have been, at least not yet.
As Nooli sat there, looking at her daughter and trying to decide what to do, her little sister Olondri came in, eyes wide. "May I see my neice, Nooli?" she asked, tip-toing up to the bed.
Nooli smiled. "Of course you can Lonnie," she replied, patting the bedspace beside her. "Come on up here and you can sit down while you hold her."
Olondri obediently climbed up, gently taking the babe from Nooli's arms. "She's so heavy for just being born!" Olondri exclaimed delightedly. "Healthy!" One of the babe's pudgy hands found Olondri's finger and she was sucking on it. "She's hungry though."
Nooli had forgotten about that part of caring for a babe. She didn't want it to touch her. Nothing that was related to that man would ever touch her longer than absolutely nessecary. "I'll feed her later."
"Have you named her yet?" Olondri asked between making nonsense noises.
"I don't know what to name her," Nooli admitted. She supposed she had to, but she didn't know how to name something she hated.
"What about... Tolodi?" Olondri suggested after a moment, looking up at Nooli for approval.
"Fine with me," Nooli replied. It didn't much matter to her. She'd be taking the babe to a milk-mother who might name her completely differently as soon as she was allowed out of bed.
Tolodi -Nooli supposed she had to stop thinking of her daughter as 'the babe' now that Olondri had named her- hiccuped and than began to cry, reaching out with tiny, pudgy arms for her mother. "She wants to go back to you," Olondri observed and handed Tolodi back to Nooli.
Nooli cradled her daughter in her arms somewhat awkwardly and managed a smile at Olondri. "I think I need some quiet," she told her sister. "It's been a long morning."
Olondri nodded and left, no dount running off to find her friends and brag about her beautiful neice.
Nooli looked down at Tolodi, not sure what to do now. She would have to feed her just this once, she couldn't take her out of the cothold now, so soon after birth. She was too weak for even the mild cold.