brave_kreyu | OOM All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness -Part 10

Koshchei is shaping a delicate lark, life size, from the granite. He has pulled the stone loose from the fireplace for easier working with both hands. (And to make it easier for Skellig to see what he is doing, although there's not much to BE seen.)

"Indeed," Koshchei rumbles. "Especially if he is fool enough to do it using MY identity."

By the time they are finished with their meal, Koshchei has finished the lark enough that it is quite recognizable AS a lark. "Needs more work, more detail," he explains as he sets it down to pick up his mug of beer. "But not a bad start."

"It is a wonderful start," Skellig offers. "I am always in awe of those who have such artistic talent with their hands, I have never been one to possess it, myself."

To be fair - until he ended up here in this world, in the desert wandering, he was practically crippled with painful arthritis and hardly able to even move his fingers without sharp daggers shooting up his spine, unless he dulled it with drug or drink.

"Thank you," Koshchei says, smiling softly. "Take time to learn, but earth is in me."

Skellig hears someone's footsteps approaching quickly. The red head he saw sleeping earlier feels worried, her clothes hastily pulled on. "Oh, we have company!" she blurts out, startled as she sees them through the doorway. She shakes her head. "Koshchei, Ludmilla has gone into labor!" Koshchei stares at her in utter incomprehension.

Kreyu stands, gathers her bag. "I have trained with a midwife," she says.

"Oh, thank the gods! I, we, don't know what to do."

"It might help if you can boil some water, put some clean rags in the boiling water for a while. They will be useful, later." Kreyu tells Koshchei. Whatever winds up happening.

Skellig briefly thinks back to the last time they were in a similar situation where Kreyu's midwife skills were required - that was when the entire debacle with Akatan occurred, and his mind faintly shudders at the image of her gasping for breath, her blood spilling onto his hands and filling his lungs. But he quickly shakes his head and clears it from his vision, refocusing.

"Boiling water, clean rags," he says. "There will be some other things that we will need later, but there will be time for that."

Clean, soft blankets for once the child is born (whatever winds up happening) and adequate hydration for all involved, Ludmilla, Kreyu, and whomever may end up assisting. Koshchei still looks completely bewildered at the idea entirely, which makes Skellig quirk a faint smile as he glances to Kreyu. "I assume I would not be welcomed to assist you, but if there is need, you can call for me at once."

Kreyu nods. "She will be more comfortable without a man there," she tells Skellig. She gives him a brief kiss on his cheek. "But I will call you, if you are needed."

They hurry off and Koshchei looks at him, his face crinkled with worry. "Ludmilla is hurt?" he asks, confused. "Not understand point of boiling water. I can take injury, heal it, not need water."

Once a large pot of water has been set over the fire to begin to boil, the other women leave to go find a fetch rags - surely one of the other servants of the house will know! Their hangovers are going to be in for a rude awaking very shortly.

"Not injured," Skellig offers as reassurance. "Humans...they...can be complicated, when it comes to giving birth to a child. It is much like how most mammals give birth to their young, except often a woman will require more assistance due to..."

He motions awkwardly with his hand, trying to think of how to word this. "The body relaxes and things...shift. But the infant must still come free from the mother...through the way the man entered her in the first place to give his seed to her."

Edited 2024-10-06 02:44 (UTC)

"Oh, oh no," Koshchei replies, sounding rather horrified. "No wonder they frightened."

Shortly, it's rather like someone has kicked over an anthill, with hungover servants, including the cook, going into action. Skellig and Koshchei are pressed into service to help with making a fortifying broth for Ludmilla and the other ladies. Cordials believed to be helpful are being dragged out of the cellar, ingredients for foods believed to help in recovery after birth are being fetched from storerooms.

Those are the activities that might in some way be practical. Others...less so. Offerings made to various gods and goddesses are in the works as are many more behaviors that are frankly superstitious: untying every knot that they can find, things straightened, shutters opened. The illusion of control, of being able to affect an event so hazardous as child birth, has resulted in LOTS of superstitions.

The lodge is a hive of activity, and Skellig is finding all of it - even the less practical - incredibly fascinating. The ingredients for the broth are relatively straightforward and easy to prep with direction from the cook, and once that is on to simmer, attention turns to opening, straightening, untangling things.

Both Skellig and Koshchei have extra sensitive hearing, so it is no surprise when Ludmilla lets out a particularly pained shout that they freeze on instinct - Skellig cringes slightly as the echo reverberates down the staircase, but he can hear Kreyu's voice, calm and steady.

"There is still quite a while to go yet," he says to Koshchei - almost apologetically. "And likely quite a bit more of that to come as well, even with the aid of the ladies and the things we have sent up."

At some point when a lull seems to settle, the cook announces that there is a meal prepared, if they would like to eat when able - after all, that is what HE can do it aid in this event, as stressful as it may be for everyone. Food helps.

"Not right, that it should hurt so," Koshchei grumbles.

The redhead from earlier, who it turns out is named Melia, comes back downstairs looking a bit wilted. The dress is honestly too fine for what she's doing, but it is what she has.

As they eat, Melia talks a little. "Your wife, Kreyu, says everything is going as well as can be expected for a first time mother." She flushes. "The others, they have been at births before, I have not."

She sips her drink, a cordial. "I think I would have gone mad without the others," she confesses to Skellig. "If he hadn't caged us up together. Only a year, but it felt so very long."

"They are complicated things," Skellig offers. "Births. But Kreyu has been training for some time with a quite skilled midwife back home in our village," he adds. "And she has encountered many obstacles. Ludmilla and her child will receive great care from her."

At her admission that they were caged for an entire year, he shifts his position slightly in the chair, expression changing - he is both sympathetic to the plight of the women, and angry at the same time that they were subjected to it at all.

"It would have been much more difficult, if you had been alone. But it was still not right."

"No," she says softly. "I know it could have been much worse, but it was bad enough."

"We want to go home, but we don't want to be separated from each other either. Katarina is jumpy, still, at sudden noises, and I can't be in a room smaller than this," she gestures to the great hall the dinner has been set up in, "with a closed door without feeling my heart race. Sofia just has nightmares, which are easier to hide, but..."

"Just because they are easier to hide than other reactions does not make them any less difficult to heal from," he says, honestly. "All of those are valid reactions to having been exposed to such a horrid ordeal. It is good that you are here now and safe, and perhaps in time you will be able to travel once again."

Skellig can vouch for their continued safety - as now that they are with Koshchei, even from what little interaction he has had with the man so far...he doubts any harm would come to these women, if an attempt were made.

"Thank you. That is comforting to hear, odd as it sounds."

"I will see all of you safely home," Koshchei replies. "May be way for you to keep in touch with each other too," he muses. "Have...acquaintance who can enchant, owe me a favor." Koshchei is finishing up the bird statue, which is looking incredibly lifelike!

"That would be wonderful, Koshchei!" she replies, perking up.

It is quite a few hours later when the sound of a baby's wailing cry can be clearly heard. SOMEONE has strong lungs and does not appreciate the sudden light and comparative cold!

A servant rushes upstairs with warm blankets and not TOO long after that Kreyu comes downstairs, pleased but rather exhausted.

As she appears in the doorway, Skellig brightens on instinct - his initial thought is to go to her, give her some of his strength and energy - but he is not sure of just how much she wants to 'disclose' here in these surroundings. Regardless, he rises from the chair and pulls out a second for her to join them, momentarily.

But first, priorities.

"I take it all is in good order," he says gently as he reaches for her, to pull her into a hug - there is sweat at her brow and clearly she has been working hard, but he is not bothered. She is clean enough for now. A bath can happen later. "Well done, love."

She wraps her arms around him, weary, but so very glad to see him. "All is well," she says. "Ludmilla and her son are resting comfortably."

She slides gratefully into the chair, picks up the drink there and sips. "He is a big lad, but he was cooperative with positioning himself the right way to come out."

Koshchei winces visibly at her description of the baby as a 'big lad'. "Thank you, Kreyu," he rumbles. "One was...worried."

She smiles at Koshchei. "I was happy to be able to help." She reaches for Skellig's hand. "You might need to....adjust the truth a bit if Sasha is not alive anymore, when you take her home," she warns Koshchei.

"From the sound of him, he has quite a big set of lungs also," he quips as they sit down, picking up his own drink - he has stuck with beer, as this 'northern' variety is a darker color and a bit more hearty, and he is finding that he enjoys it very much. "They will serve him well."

Adjusting the truth is not something that he had considered, and that gives him reason to intertwine their fingers beneath the table, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as he does so. He also opens his connection slightly to her, his Light free for the taking if she'd like just a small amount to start off with for now.

"Politics?" Koschei grumbles. "Yes," Kreyu says, a slight sigh in her voice.

She is grateful for the Light, pulls a bit of it off. She eats the food the cook has prepared with more hunger than she had expected! It must have taken more out of her than she thought.

"There is a suite with bath house, around the back." Koschei tells them. "Art not my tastes, but place to clean up and rest."

"That sounds lovely, Koschei," Kreyu replies.

"We are grateful for your kindness," Skellig adds, with an nod of his head. "I think perhaps while you finish your meal, love, I would gather our gear and take it over?"

Depending on the state of the suite and bath house, it may take a few moments to ensure it is ready for their stay - and he is unsure if perhaps Kreyu may wish to discuss Dragon Things with Koshchei, subjects that possibly should be discussed without him present.

"Thank you, love," she says to Skellig. "I shouldn't need my bag again, for one." The one with the supplies she used for the birth.

A servant is glad to show him the way, hand him the key, and bring fresh linens, towels and such.

The room is a decent size and the bed looks comfortable. The bath is more than large enough for BOTH of them to soak in, filled with natural hot spring water!

The art and decorations though...there is a definite THEME. Both actual brothels they've been in had less erotic art per square foot than this space!

Carrying their things is easy enough; between his own abilities and that which he allows another servant to follow along with, and as the bed is being freshened and remade, Skellig takes a few moments to rifle through their things and find a fresh robe for her, as well as some of her favorite soaps and oils, placing them nearby the bath.

It is easy enough to start a fire in the hearth once the bed is made, and after another servant brings by a small basket of food and drink (they have had a long day - Lady Kreyu especially - there may be need for snacks) then he is left alone with a beer and the artwork.

When she joins him, she will find him studying a rather 'contemporary' piece, a sculpture which depicts a mass of bodies in various positions, all tangled and woven together as they enjoy themselves...he suspects this may be what some of Koshchei's parties look like...

She's already shut the door and barred it before she truly notices the nature of the sculpture. "Thank you, Skellig," she says as she crosses the room.

She peers at the sculpture, brow furrowing slightly. "Some of that looks a bit..uncomfortable," she whispers as she wraps an arm around him. "One suspects the previous occupant of this suite had needs that weren't being met." She kisses his neck, breathes in his scent.

"From their tastes in decor, it seems as if that may indeed have been the case."

He turns to face her, allowing her to more easily wrap her arms around his body, and he mimics the motion in the way that they just 'fit' together perfectly. "You and I do not have that 'issue', thankfully. Our decor will not have to be quite so...blatant."

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, as he leans down to kiss her, using one hand to brush her hair back from her eyes. "At least, I do not think we have that issue."

"Definitely not," she assures him once they break for air. "You have always left me very satisfied."

"Bathe with me?" she asks. "I plan to stay and soak a while, and I would quite like your company."

Skellig is only the slightest bit smug as she comments about his abilities to leave her satisfied, chest puffing up faintly as his smirk shifts to a grin.

"I was hoping you would ask me to join you," he says. "I brought your robe and some the soaps and oils you prefer, they are there on the bench," he motions to the low wooden bench near the bath. "I will grab my own, then join you. Do you want a drink? There is beer, and some more of that cordial in a small bottle and some cups..."

"You spoil me," she replies, but her smile is wide, pleased. "Beer would be lovely, thank you."

The tub is essentially TWO tubs, one shallower tub for bathing, the other for soaking. Kreyu slips her clothes off, puts them neatly on a shelf. Then she climbs into the 'washing' tub and begins to do just that. She gives a pleased sigh at the warmth and the scent of her favorite soap.

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