Chapter 38
Havali
There had been hints.
Sometimes, the females would say something, and it would give him pause, but he had always pushed the concern away. Dismissed it. Childbirth wasn’t a comfortable experience and no female he knew spoke of that mark fondly. But it was at least quick and the pain manageable.
For a domini female, that was.
Peony was reaching the end of her third mark of labor.
Six of the human hours. He only knew that because Scarlet had reverted to her people’s time keeping because it was easier for both herself and Peony, and both of them were too focused on what they were doing to concern themselves with the confused, scared, and horrified males in the room with them.
Peony had cobbled together a nest made of many things in the orbital.
Rejected fabrics were in a pile beside Scarlet and she had used some of them to clean up the fluid that had gushed from Peony when her amniotic sac had broken.
That had happened early on and Havali had fully expected the pup would follow soon after.
It did not, and Scarlet was not surprised.
“We still have a long way to go,” she had said, cleaning her hands off.
She had needed to check Peony’s cervix for effacement and dilation, and since there were no gloves, she used her bare hands.
Despite the modesty of the humans under normal circumstances, neither of the females made a big deal about it, Peony only whimpered when Scarlet told her that she was only dilated to two of a measurement he didn’t recognize.
Two. She needed to reach ten. And after three marks, six hours, Peony was only at two.
Atem had begun to panic. Labor should last a mark, absolutely not more than two.
Scarlet calmly assured him that, for humans, it was much longer.
She couldn’t give a definitive time, because every woman was different and first-time mothers took the longest, but she assured him that Peony wasn’t out of the range of normal yet.
She certainly didn’t look normal. Peony was wracked with random pains that Havali had been tasked with timing.
Both the duration of the pains and the time between them.
The contractions wracked her tiny frame with aches that made her cry, whimper, curse, and wiggle.
She changed positions a lot but could not get comfortable.
At her side, Alanna was talking to her in their native tongue.
Signing her songs, telling her stories, chatting to keep her calm.
Atem was at her back, acting as a sturdy rest on her lounge cushion nest, something steady to keep her grounded.
With each passing moment, he looked more worried and agonized as his female suffered.
And there was no doubt that Peony was suffering. Her pain seemed endless. And it only got worse as yet another mark passed. And another.
Five marks. Ten human hours. She was at five of the small measurements Scarlet was taking. Peony was sweating, grumbling. She had snapped at Atem multiple times, but she always apologized afterwards, appearing sad that she would take her pain out on him.
Atem kept telling her he loved her. At least until she told him to shut up. Even after she apologized for that, he remained quiet but supportive.
Havali and Tuvo stood around them. Supremely useless and uncomfortable.
They could do nothing but witness as Peony hurt.
It was infuriating. Havali had never felt so helpless in his life as he stood there, keeping time for whenever Scarlet asked him about it.
At least, he was doing more than Tuvo. First Warrior’s tail was lowered in shame, and he looked on, sickened.
Havali couldn’t help but remember the way they had dismissed human childbirth. Though at least Havali had kept the thought to himself. Tuvo had made the mistake of speaking it aloud. Neither of them realized what they were talking about, and watching it play out before them was humbling.
At six marks, Scarlet declared happily that Peony was dilated to six lengths. That was not the ten they were aiming for, so he had no idea why that was good.
But after that, things began to get worse.
Peony cried out more frequently. Her contraction pains became faster, more predictable. She couldn’t walk anymore, but she looked miserable against Atem as she labored.
He thought that the excitement meant the pup must be coming soon. That now, finally, he would make his appearance and end this.
He was wrong.
More time passed. Scarlet asked him more often for time between contractions, she checked Peony’s cervix more frequently.
It was definitely opening faster now, but that was relative because the process was still so slow, Havali thought he might break a fang with how hard he clenched his teeth, just wanting it to be over.
For Peony’s sake. She looked so miserable. So pained. She drank some water, nibbled on a bit of soft food, but took nothing else. It had been so long since she ate, but she wanted nothing. She asked Scarlet if she could push yet. Scarlet emphatically told her no.
More waiting.
More pain.
It never ended.
Tuvo looked sick. Havali felt sick. Atem was traumatized, but he was doing his best to be kind and calm as Peony crushed his hands every time another contraction wracked her tiny body. A body that had never looked so fragile or powerful as it did in this moment.
Seven marks, fourteen hours, and Scarlet still wasn’t worried.
Endlessly patient, calm, commanding, his female ran the birthing chamber like a warrior.
She had sacrificed her skirt for Peony’s nest and so was only in her bodysuit, but she seemed more comfortable that way as it allowed her to kneel between Peony’s legs, checking on her progress, between tending to her and ordering Havali and Tuvo around.
It was past the eighth mark when finally, finally, Scarlet declared that Peony had reached that magic number ten and that the birth was beginning.
Only now. After eight marks, sixteen human hours, of agony, the birth was actually starting.
“I see the head,” Scarlet said, smiling up at Peony. “He’s coming.”
Peony was crying, sweating, trembling, as she crushed Atem’s hand in one fist and firmly held Alanna’s with the other. Alanna was singing still, by Peony’s request, and her soft voice lilted sweetly through the air, but she stopped when Scarlet asked.
“Time to focus,” she said. “Baby is coming. We’re almost there. You’re doing great, Peony.”
She said they were almost there, but that was a lie.
Another mark passed. The worst mark of all.
The contractions were coming relentlessly now.
Worse than before. Peony was screaming. Scarlet ordered her to stop, to put that power into her pushes.
She struggled to obey. Scarlet remained crouched between her legs, monitoring the baby.
Occasionally feeling or listening to Peony’s belly.
She had a large bowl of water on hand and multiple piles of various fabrics – rags, the table runner, the tablecloth, basically anything – and she used them to either wipe off her hands or to wipe off Peony.
She ordered her to relax. Then to push. Then to relax. Back and forth. Endless. Agony.
Peony begged for it to stop, but of course it didn’t.
The pup’s hair – the pale gray of a newborn – had appeared, but it wasn’t emerging. Peony pushed and struggled, but it couldn’t breach her opening. Blood appeared as her skin began tearing, breaking before she stretched.
Scarlet cursed. “Peony, I’m going to have to do an episiotomy.”
Peony cried, but she didn’t have the strength to put much sound into it.
“What is that?” Tuvo asked, the first words he had spoken since this began.
“I have to make a cut here,” Scarlet said, pointing the bottom of Peony’s slit. “The baby needs more room to get out and if I let it rip, it will do more damage and hurt more. I’m sorry, Peony.”
Peony whimpered but nodded her head, granting permission.
“Havali, come here,” Scarlet ordered.
He didn’t know why she wanted him. This had nothing to do with keeping time. But he approached and, at her order, kneeled down.
“Do this.” She lifted her index finger and pointed it up.
Havali mirrored her movement.
“Claw up.”
He let them emerge, still not understanding, because he didn’t want to understand.
“Perfect. Keep it just like that, let me move it.” She grabbed him by the finger, like it was a stylus, then pulled his arm down.
He realized what she was about to do and his entire being rebelled. He pulled against her, absolutely refusing to let his claws sink into Peony’s skin.
“Hey,” Scarlet snapped, glaring at him. “I don’t have anything else sharp, and your hands are clean. Let me do this or the baby will rip its way out of her, and it will hurt worse.”
Havali liked biting his female, but he didn’t actually want to cause injury or harm. And there was no doubt in his mind that this would do both.
But Scarlet tightened her grip on his finger and, again, used his claw as a tool. His jaw clenched, and it took everything in him not to pull away again, but he let her do it. His sharp claw sank too easily into Peony’s skin. Blood erupted at the same moment that she screamed.
Scarlet didn’t try to stop her this time. Her movements were quick and efficient as she cut down and slightly to the side. She let him go and wiped away the blood. Havali stepped back, staring at his own claw, at the red upon it, in horror.
Tuvo looked nearly on the verge of vomiting. But he didn’t turn away. No more than Havali could. It would be dishonorable to ignore her suffering. Especially when both of them, even silently, had cast dispersions on this process.
With the cut made, things went undeniably easier.
By no means easy, but the pup was finally descending properly.
It was horrific and terrible and, somehow, beautiful.
Alanna’s soft, kind voice spoke with endless encouragement. Peony was grunting and screaming, battle cries that burst from her tiny body as she forced her son out into Scarlet’s waiting hands.