Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

Post by JewellRavenlock »

Stephen stormed into the house, calling out for his wife, “Murinin? Murinin get down ‘ere now!” When she didn’t answer immediately to his panicked calling, he started a whirlwind room-by-room search of the house for her. He spotted Iona, out in the back cleaning laundry, through one of the upstairs windows; she was apparently the sole occupant of the house as he knew the kids had been with the neighbors since early that day. There was no sign of Jewell.

His search ended in the kitchen. A fire was going in the stove since the late afternoon was cool and damp for May, but it too was empty. Stephen began pacing back and forth across the small room. He habitually knocked into the chairs of the small, casual dinette set the children often sat at when they watched Iona cook, waiting for scraps of cookie dough to be tossed their way as if they were dogs. He didn’t seem to notice. Rather, nothing seemed to distract him from his troubled muttering in a mixture of Gaelic and Common that was barely comprehensible. A few minutes only had passed by since he had entered the house, looking for his wife, but he grew clearly more agitated with the passing of each one.

When Jewell pushed through the kitchen’s back door, leading out into the garden and from there to the beach, less than five minutes later, Stephen was already seeing red. Jewell on the other hand was pleased as punch. Her cheeks were flushed from the cool breeze biting at her skin as she walked the beach, but she was smiling and oblivious to her husband’s turmoil. When he first rushed home, concern for her well-being had been his dominant emotion; now, seeing her happy as could be as though nothing mattered in the world while he suffered internally, he felt anger towards her stir.

“Stephen, I didn’t think you’d be home so early,” she remarked as she knocked her boots against the doorframe, letting the damp sand fall off them before stepping fully inside and closing the door behind her.

He had stopped his pacing as soon as the door opened, landing himself right behind one of the kitchen chairs he had knocked into earlier. His hands curled over the top of the wooden chair now, fingers pushing into the pliant material. “Where were ye?”

Jewell paused in removing her cloak and scarf—having left the house overdressed for the weather as she had been made to do almost daily under the direction of both her husband and housekeeper—clueing in to her husband’s foul mood by the tone he used, full of barely restrained anger at this point. “I just went for a short walk on the beach…”

“Alone?” he snapped at her, hands gripping the chair even harder.

“…Iona knew where I was going,” she talked slower, quieter, after he interrupted her. Stephen rarely ever raised his voice at her. Setting aside her cloak and other outwear, she moved further within the kitchen towards him. “I just walked a few hundred feet down the way. I was so tired of being cooped up in the house today. Look, I even found a starfish,” she held up the treasure, attempting to pacify him.

“Are ye tryin’ tae get yerself killed?” She flinched at that, yet he continued on. He couldn’t stop, only finding further fuel for his anger when he looked at her now as with eyes wide open for the first time. The flush of her cheeks wasn’t from the wind but from the exertion she put herself through, a clear sign of failing health. Had her skin looked that pale when he had left her that morning? Certainly she had lost even more weight than he had noticed the other day; maybe she wasn’t eating as much as she claimed to be? “Wha’ were ye thinkin’? Walkin’ out by yerself tha’ way, ‘ow could ye be so stupid?”

Whereas she had been moving closer to him before, she shrunk back now. His words stung, all the more so because of how close they came to the accusations Amanda had hurled at her. “Stephen, I don’t understand. I didn’t even go very far, I just stood by the water for a little while. I wasn’t in any danger or anything.”

He barely even let her finish, “Not bein’ in any danger? Not bein’ in any danger? Hah!” He pushed the chair he had been grabbing onto away from him, causing her to jump, before pointing at her. “Ye, Jewell, be a liar. But I won’t be lied tae no more. I know the truth now.”

Jewell wracked her brain for understanding as tears stung her eyes, “What are you talking about?”

His hand fell to his side, fists clenching. He hadn’t meant to make her cry, but he wasn’t done being angry yet. He would not allow her to sway him out of this conversation, to manipulate him again! “I met yer doctor in the market today.” Her sharp intake of breath echoed in the momentary silence between them. “‘e told me everythin’.”
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

Post by JewellRavenlock »

Stephen was casually browsing through the stalls of the marketplace, stopping now and again to look at something closer. He knew Jewell was getting depressed with staying home so much, so he was looking for something to keep her amused for a while. He was eyeing a collection of books, supposedly stolen documents from the Lands if the vendor was to be believed, when a light hand tapped him on the shoulder.

“Captain Kidd?” Stephen turned around, eyeing the smaller, older man dubiously. “Captain Stephen Kidd, is it?”

“Who be wantin’ tae know?” The man didn’t look dangerous, but who knew what he could be carrying beneath his jacket.

“Ah, it is you! I thought so, but I just wasn’t sure. I have heard so much about you from your wife, though.” The man chatted on pleasantly, oblivious to Stephen’s suspicions.

“Me wife?” Now he narrowed his eyes at this man who his wife supposedly talked to so much.

“Oh, you musn’t think…you don’t?” He laughed, extended his hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t properly introduce myself. I’m Doctor Axelrod; I’m your wife’s doctor.”

All ill-will and misgivings were quickly dissolved as Stephen extended his hand, shaking the other man’s firmly, “Ah Doctor, good tae meet ye.”

“A pleasure to meet you as well,” he released his hand after shaking. “I’m sorry if I interrupted your shopping, but I thought it was you and I just wanted to offer you my congratulations.”

“Not a bother at all,” Stephen objected, “an’ thank ye. We both be very excited.”

“Good good. Though I must say, I was very surprised when Lady Kidd came to me when she thought she was pregnant, especially after I had advised her beforehand how dangerous it was and all.” Stephen’s brow creased but the doctor didn’t seem to notice. After spending all day talking to people who tended to ignore his advice and all night living with a wife who thought men should be seen not heard it was nice to have a listening ear. “I was actually very surprised you had agreed to the pregnancy, really, even if she wanted to proceed with the idea despite everything. No offense to your wife, Captain Kidd, but I do know her to be rather stubborn.”

“Aye, tha’ she is,” Stephen tried to laugh, making a fairly good show of it, while his concern and morbid curiosity grew. He feigned casual interest in what the doctor said desiring to find out the truth once and for all, “Jus’ wha’ ‘ad ye told me wife tae begin with again, Doctor? I know she told me an’ all, but with things movin’ along as such.” He made a gesture to show how easily things could just slip one’s mind.

“Oh yes, well you know ever since the iron poisoning, she has been particularly weak, at least for one of her kind. I understand she is able to use her magic quite well normally since the incident, but that doesn’t mean her body has recovered even if it has been a while.” He shook his head as he rambled on, apparently never having heard of doctor-patient confidentiality. “Naturally, I wasn’t her doctor back when Moradin was born, but that really did harm her. I believe the original trauma came from before that, with the miscarriages and all, but when both she and the baby almost died when she gave birth to Moradin, it really increased her chances of that happening again. Shame I really have not done a deeper study of Faerie physiology and all.” The doctor took breath, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and completely unaware of the growing horror Stephen was experiencing. “Then with the twins… well, we were all certainly lucky that time. It was a very close call; I believe someone had been ready to contact the mortuary before it was all said and done. I told her that with the iron poisoning added in, I really didn’t expect her to be able to carry the baby to term; I was truly scared it might even kill her this time. But things seem to be going along well enough now, despite my fears, don’t you think?” The man had the audacity to flash a cheerful and positive smile at Stephen after all that.

“Aye, well enough.” Stephen had to swallow hard against the lump that was building in his throat. He felt like crushing this little man before him, but he wasn’t the real source of his anger. “If ye’ll be excusin’ me, I got tae be gettin’ ‘ome tae me wife an’ all.”

“Yes yes, surely. Congratulations again!” The doctor waved goodbye, but Stephen was already taking off down the street.
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

Post by JewellRavenlock »

“When were ye goin’ tae tell me, Jewell? When?” He found that his retelling of the encounter only incensed him further.

Her head had remained downcast throughout his recounting of the events at the Marketplace as she silently cursed Doctor Axelrod. At Stephen’s question, she closed her eyes tightly and whispered, “Never.”

“Excuse me?” He didn’t think he heard her correctly. He even took a step closer to better hear her.

“I said,” she paused, taking a deep breath before calmly replying, “I was never going to tell you.”

He stopped, eyes widening a touch. “Wha’ were ye thinkin’, Jewell? How could ye keep this from me? Why would ye?” His tone was accusing, his manner distrustful rather than hurt.

“Because you didn’t need to know!” She finally exploded at him, tired of being on the defensive. She had been reproaching herself for months over this; to have him do the same was unbearable.

As she shouted at him, he raised his voice again as well. “I dinnae need tae know? I dinnae need tae know tha’ ye could get ‘urt? Tha’ by knockin’ ye up, I could get ye killed?” He gestured widely, baffled by her logic.

“Stop it!” She made a motion as if to cover her ears. “Don’t call it that!” He cheapened the whole sacrifice she felt she was making for his happiness by making it seem like she was just some common whore he happened to impregnate by accident. Silence reigned between them a moment—he taken aback by how vehemently she yelled at him and she grasping for some semblance of control as she felt her heart pounding against her ribcage. Everything was falling apart. She had kept it from him so well; he would never have known and everything would have continued along smoothly. She felt the tears falling freely, unchecked, down her cheeks when she began again a bit quieter, “And that is not going to happen. Nothing is going to go wrong.”

Her ability to stay calm in the face of the truth and deny his fears further infuriated him, “How can ye say tha’, Jewell? Ye don’ know that. Ye don’ know anythin’, an’ now it be too late tae take it all back.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down only to find more anger directed at her. “Ye should ‘ave told me. Yer me wife, fer jaysus’ sake! Rather, I find ou’ from some stranger in the market.”

“That’s not how I wanted you to find out,” she commented quietly.

He continued on, bulldozing right over her counter-comment as his argument built strength again, “An’ o’ knows ‘ow many others already know. The ‘ole town probably knows, all wonderin’ jus’ wha’ the ‘ell I be doin’, settin’ ye up like this. Ye’ve made an ass of me, Jewell! An’ now when ye die, it’s gonna be yer blood on my hands.” His real fears were coming out now, thrown down viciously as fodder to feed their fight.

“Shut up! Just shut your mouth and stop talking like that. I don’t want to hear it.” She turned halfway away from him, as if it would prevent her from facing what he had to say.

“Well yer gonna be hearin’ it. Tellin’ me tae shut me mouth, when yer the one tha’s been keepin’ her mouth shut all this time, selfishly keepin’ all this from me an’ ‘o knows wha’ else! I mean, is the baby even mine?”

It was a low blow and they both knew it. Silence reigned between them, after her small gasp, as they stared at each other across the room. Her hand covered her mouth, perhaps keeping back any words less she say something as awful as he just had. His eyes were wide, shocked as he was that he dare say anything so cruel to his murinin.

She lowered her hand, trembling as she tried to appeal to him, “I did tell you…”

His momentary shame was quickly overcome as she opened her mouth and more lies poured forth; he couldn’t listen to this anymore. “Ye told me nothin’! Ye dinnae tell me ah thing, an’ I’ll be damned if I stand ‘ere an’ listen tae ye lie somemore tae me face.”

He was turning and heading for the door. He was walking away from her and she didn’t even get a chance to explain. Suddenly the most important thing in her mind was not what he had said to her but that she had to explain to him now. She practically ran after him, chasing him into the foyer to grab onto his jacket sleeve as he opened the door, “Wait, Stephen, let me explain. Let me just tell you, please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but if you just let me talk to you.”

Stephen shrugged her off, face turned away from her. “I don’ wanna ‘ear it, Jewell. Jus’ leave me be.” The coldness in his voice pushed her back as he walked out the door.
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

Post by JewellRavenlock »

Jewell was in the foyer still, arms wrapped around herself like a lost child just staring at the door, an hour later when Iona came upon her. She was waiting for him to come walking back inside, waiting for him to give her the chance to explain that she did not deserve. She waited so long that her feet ached, her head spun, she felt faint. She wouldn’t move, though; she absolutely refused to. If she just stared at the door, focused on only that and let everything else become a blur, then she thought she could stand there forever waiting for him.

She started abruptly when Iona touched her shoulder gently, a kindly smile on her face, “Jewell dearie, we should be gettin’ you off yer feet now.”

Jewell looked at her as if she was coming out of a dream, where everything in her normal life—like this woman who had such a hand in raising her kids and taking care of her home for the last ten years—was strange to her and all that existed was the fight and explaining to Stephen the things she had kept hidden for so long now. “My feet? But I need to wait here for Stephen…”

“I know, lovelie, but you’d be much more comfortable waitin’ upstairs, wouldn’t you? Captain Kidd will be along soon enough.” They could both pretend there hadn’t been a fight. Iona could pretend that she hadn’t overheard their raised voices earlier. She could pretend she didn’t see the fresh tear stains that marked Jewell’s forever youthful face. “You know him, he’s probably out for a few drinks with Robert, and then he’ll be waltzin’ in, forgettin’ the hour. Nothin’ to be worrying yourself about. He’d be just horrified if he found you standin’ here all this time, waitin’ for him. Then there’d be hell to pay for me.”

“Right,” Jewell nodded slowly, gaze traversing back to the door. Maybe he would open it now. She wouldn’t want to miss it. He really wouldn’t forgive her then. A shudder ran over her frame. Maybe he already would never forgive her.

Iona stared at Jewell, growing concern on her face. She knew some of the worries regarding her health and had guessed at more, having been around the family for years now; she knew enough to know that all this worrying was certainly not healthy. She wrapped her arm around the younger woman’s shoulders. “Come on up the stairs now, lovelie. If Amanda catches you at this, she’ll be givin’ you hell too.”

That got an unsteady laugh out of Jewell as she allowed Iona to lead her up the stairs, suddenly finding that once she moved she couldn’t rely on her own strength to put one foot in front of the other. Jewell drew the line, though, when Iona tried to guide her to bed once upstairs. “No no, I’m waiting up.”

“Now Jewell Ravenlock Kidd, you know better than everyone else that you need your rest!” Like a mother hen, Io pecked at her with her words.

Jewell’s cheeks flushed at this fresh reminder of her fight with Stephen; yes, she did need her rest and now he would know just how vital it really was. “I’ll get my rest. I don’t need you tucking me into bed, though. Get ready to receive the kids, please? Take care of that and I will rest much easier.” To make a show of following orders, she was moving towards the king size bed, a hand resting gingerly on her stomach; it felt so heavy this evening.

“If you say so, dearie,” she watched the mistress of the house for a few moments. “I’ll be goin’ to turn down their beds and light fires in the rooms to keep their dear little hearts warm. If you be needing anything…”

Jewell just nodded; she knew what to do. Only when Iona left did she change her course from their usually inviting bed—it looked cold and mocking now, as if she had really defiled it with the infidelity that Stephen accused her of in his fit of anger. A pathetic little sob echoed in the room, following the course of her thoughts. She stopped before the window of the room that faced the main lane through the trees up to their little sea-shore home; if she couldn’t wait before the door, at least she could watch for him here.

The hour hand ticked on by. She never even heard the children come home, hushed as they were by Iona and rewarded with snacks to take to bed for their good behavior. As the moon rose, her feet finally gave up their vigilance, forcing her to resign to the overstuffed chair that was set beside the large window; it served as the sweetest place to read a book on cold winter afternoons as she watched the comings and goings up the lane. Now, it lulled her into a false comfort as her eyes burned with the combination of lingering tears and strain as she stared into the growing dense darkness of a cloudy spring night.

Stephen found her there hours later, the waxing moon casting her skin with its usual ethereal glow, absent these days as the pregnancy took its toll, sleeping fitfully in the chair. He sighed heavily: he was still hurt over the secrets she had kept, worried that their fight had upset her already delicate balance, and marveling with concern that even at a almost six months pregnant, she could still curl up in her window chair as she was.

He left his jacket on a chair by the door, already covered by discarded clothes from the weeks past that no one had bothered to return to their proper place, and moved towards her. She stirred when he started to pick her up as gently as he could. “Stephen?” She didn’t even open her eyes, just murmured his name sleepily.

“Aye murinin, sorry tae keep ye waitin’ up.” Adjusting her feather-light weight in his arms, he started to move towards their bed. His heart constricted painfully at the way she instinctly curled against him, her cheek rubbing against the cloth of his shirt.

“I needed to tell you…”

“Shh, tha’ don’t matter right now, luv.”

“But…”

He kissed the top of her head to quiet her, a reassurance that everything was okay for now. Setting her down on her side of the bed, he leaned over her to adjust her hair behind her ears; she hated it when an errant curl tickled her ears while she slept. “You smell like whiskey,” her voice was low and dreamy.

“Tha’ I do, luv.”

He exchanged his smoke-saturated clothes, a parting gift from time spent at the Keg, for something more fitting before climbing into bed besides her. A rebellious part of him wanted to keep his distance, to protect himself from any more lies, but he couldn’t resist letting his arm rest around her as they fell asleep.
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

Post by JewellRavenlock »

The morning light filtered into Jewell’s eyes—it always seemed to come too early these days and someone had apparently failed to close the curtains the night before—and she turned over, careful how she shifted her weight, to bury her head against Stephen’s side as a way to block out the light and hold on to sleep a few minutes longer. As she shifted though she could feel him stir, his breathing pattern changing as he woke at her touch. Suddenly, sleep was not so very important. Suddenly, with waking memories of the night before, she desperately wanted to flee their bed. Lifting her head off the pillow, she attempted to turn over once more and slip away with her husband being none the wiser. Her plot was thwarted though with a strong arm holding her in place and a hand tangling up in her hair.

“Murinin,” it was a softly spoken morning greeting, holding none of the accusation and anger from the previous night. He hadn’t even opened his eyes yet.

She let her head fall with a cushioned thunk back onto her pillow. There was no silent escape now; he didn’t deserve that from her anyways. What he did deserve was an explanation, if he was good enough to allow her one after such a serious breach of trust. What sense of betrayal he must be feeling, she couldn’t even imagine.

“‘ow be me two favorite girls this mornin’?” He continued their morning routine as if nothing was amiss.

“Tired,” she admitted, willing to play along and delay the inevitable.

“Aye,” he opened his eyes to meet hers, pleased when she didn’t look away in shame. “I imagine ye would be, foolishly waitin’ up like ye were.”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

He reached up over his head, stretching out, “Would ‘ave done ye nae good, luv, ye know. I weren’t in the mood tae ‘ear wha’ ye had tae say.” He was honest without being harsh now, more mindful of her condition than he had been the night before and unwilling to upset her more.

“Are you in the mood now?” she ventured tentatively, practically walking on eggshells.

“Iffin ye want tae talk, I be willing tae listen.”

She inhaled deeply, finally looking away from him. She found the weave of their sheets a fascinating point to fixate her eyes on as she wondered where to start.

“You know about the first miscarriage,” she could feel him nod rather than see him, her eyes following the different threads and how they came together to form a solid sheet. “But after that there was another, after I had Amanda. They said it was a miracle that nothing went really wrong with her. But the next one… I didn’t know the guy, you know? I had been out walking in the woods alone, past the city limits when…” She had closed her eyes, shaking her head. Some things were so crystal clear in her memory. Why hadn’t she fought back harder that day? “That was the first time I think Alex killed anyone.” A beat of silence before she continued, “It didn’t matter anyways. They said I was too young for one of my people, my body too complex or something because of my mixed heritage, which made it harder to carry to term. Mix in the fact that I didn’t want…” She fell completely silent for a series of breaths; she was trying to talk about it so clinically, as if none of it really mattered. It still mattered today, though, because she could remember that feeling of emptiness that had smothered her. “In the end, they said that just made things worse for the next time, that my body just wasn’t ready or something. I don’t think they knew exactly what was wrong.”

He was frowning, trying to follow her rambling speech as best he could and coming to several conclusions that chilled his blood.

Her eyes opened again, still concentrating on the sheet in front of her as her fingers fiddled with it. “I waited to have Moradin after that, but it didn’t do any good. He was born so early and…something went wrong. They’re not exactly sure what because the doctor didn’t get there until after. There was blood everywhere, though. Everywhere.” She shuddered a moment. Being on a battle field hadn’t compared to that night. That night it was her blood staining everything. “Amanda could tell you; she wanted to tell you. My friend Moradin, he had to do a…they call it a cesarean here? When they cut you open.” She spoke about that in such a blasé manner, but her tone change after she held her breath for several quickened heart beats. “He had to do that because the baby was just dying and he wouldn’t come out and all the blood…” She clenched her jaw, breathing in deeply through her nose to calm herself. “We were both supposed to die that night. Moradin did everything he could to save me but the baby,” she pressed her lips together in a thin line. “That was the night Amanda bonded her life to his. If she hadn’t done that,” she trailed off; it didn’t need to be said aloud.

The birds singing outside their window, welcoming the morning light with gusto, and the fresh spring breeze seemed at odds with what she was telling him. “I was a lot more careful when it came to the twins, but even then,” her voice trembled, “even then I was too weak to carry them to term, my body just couldn’t handle it.” She couldn’t completely hide the self-loathing in her voice, she who prided herself on being so strong. “They were so tiny because they came so early; they could barely breathe on their own. We had to have a healer to watch them all hours of the day. The bleeding wasn’t as bad that time, but the doctor was still concerned.”

“After that, I gave up. Especially after the iron poisoning,” but that he knew about; she had told him how they had fed it to her, how they poisoned her body day after day for almost a year when she was away. “The doctor said it would only make things worse, after all, since they couldn’t ascertain exactly how much damage had been done. So I was just too scared since then to try again.” She spread her hands out over the sheet then, smoothing out the wrinkles. There it all was, laid out before him.

He lay there, staring up at their ceiling, completely baffled by the complex woman besides him. “But murinin, why not tell me then? Why?” There was no other question to ask that expressed his confusion.

“Don’t you see? I know you wanted this so badly—”

He spoke over her, exasperated, “But nae at the expense of yer own life.”

“—and I know I’m not the model house wife. But I wanted to give you what you have been missing so long no matter what the cost. I wanted to do this for you.”

He sighed, reaching out to drag her closer, both arms wrapping about her as he spoke into her hair, “Foolish foolish girl.”
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

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The late, hot June sun filtered through the tree branches to warm her face. She could hear the children laughing nearby, coupled with the occasional splash and squeal as they played in the small pond and stream that ran near the house. Stephen had set her up on a settee beneath the shade of several trees—silently as was his way these days, insisting on carrying her like she was a porcelain doll—before departing for the day. Despite her protest at being treated so, she was bone weary. The heat sapped what little strength she could muster, and the cool of the shade was more than welcome. The setting was so relaxing, the sounds of domestic bliss soothing to her troubled mind, that no one could blame her for dozing off.

Droplets of water suddenly tickling her face—unexpected but not wholly unwelcome—roused her. She blinked rapidly, expecting the afternoon sun to assault her eyes only to find the shadow of a young body blocking out the light.

“Shouldn’t you be watching your siblings?” She somewhat groaned out as she shifted her weight, trying to find a more comfortable position to lie in than the one she had fallen asleep in. She waved away Amanda’s helping hands.

“Iona has them lying out on the grass, eating a snack,” she jerked her head to indicate behind her, sending another spray of water from her soaking dark curls to assault her mother, where the other six Ravenlock-Kidd children were sitting around in a circle, throwing grapes at each other.

“I see. So you’ve come to check on your poor, ailing mother?” Her tone was somewhat scathing; Jewell found it easy to be crabby these days despite, or in spite of, the fine weather.

Amanda shook her head, eyeing her mother seriously; “Not quite.”

“Then what? You’re blocking my sun.”

The teen sighed, making a shoo’ing motion for her mother to move her legs as she perched herself on the edge of the settee. “Pappa knows, doesn’t he?”

Jewell had reluctantly moved her legs and now stared moodily out across the lawn, “What makes you think that?”

“Gee, I wonder. Maybe it’s the way you’ve both been so damn moody—”

“Don’t say damn,” Jewell corrected without enthusiasm.

“—or the way he’s been brooding about the house while watching your every move, waiting for you to fall apart.”

“You do the same thing, you know,” she idly pointed out.

“Or the way you go around wearing this sad little face all the time. Or how you two barely seem to talk now, especially about the baby, when a few weeks ago Pappa wouldn’t shut up about it.”

Jewell was really frowning now as her daughter served her these fresh reminders regarding the current state of her marriage. “Anything else?”

“Well,” Amanda turned suddenly bashful, “it could be how he finally got the nerve to ask me about it this morning too.”

Jewell let silence reign a moment between them as she thought this over. “What’d you say?” She tried to sound disinterested, but she suddenly had her little girl under her gaze.

Amanda unflinchingly met her mother’s eyes, but her cheeks turned red under such scrutiny. “I didn’t tell him anything. I said…well, I told him we’d talk about it later.” Despite her threats to tell Stephen months before he found out the truth, when her loyalty to her mother had been suddenly tested, Amanda found she could not betray Jewell’s confidence.

“Why?”

“Because I know how important it was for you that he didn’t find out.”

Jewell looked away again. “You can tell him whatever you want, whatever he asks about. He already knows.”

They both fell silent, Amanda watching her mother and her mother staring out ahead of her at nothing. Amanda finally grew uncomfortable with the silence, shifting some. “What happens now? Are you and pappa—”

“I wish I knew.”
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

Post by JewellRavenlock »

Journal Entry
July, XXXX


July has been a harsh month. The cool of late spring has been pushed aside by a brutal heat that makes my very breath feel labored. The only part of the day that is bearable is the early evening. In the late afternoon, thunderstorms roll in from off the ocean and cool everything down with a soaking rain that refreshes me as well.

I’ve gained some weight. The doctor seemed well pleased. He said I’m not where I should be but it’s much better than where I was with the twins. That’s encouraging, isn’t it? It should be but it doesn’t seem enough to please Stephen. Don’t get me wrong, he has not been treating me badly. Quite the opposite, in fact. He’s been a saint. I must be a fool to have a problem with that, but he’s always walking on eggshells around me. He’s so careful with me. He tries to do nothing that could possibly upset me less I die right on the spot! We can’t even have a simple conversation anymore, it seems, since he’s afraid of saying anything that will upset me. Part of me understands his concern but the rest of me… ugh! Armies feared me once upon a time. I was the avatar of the planet Aquarius for mother of nature’s sake. Yet here I am, babysat by my husband, house keeper, and daughter. I can’t even cough without setting off a house-wide panic. I hope this will soon pass. It puts me in such a foul mood.

I’ve wanted to go shopping for baby clothes, but Stephen is always saying “later” or “when you feel stronger.” I think he’s afraid. He doesn’t want to act like the baby is a sure thing anymore, like she’s real anymore. I catch him just staring at my stomach. It just may be the saddest thing in the world. I can’t give into his thinking, though. I have to believe this will work out, that everything will be all right this time. If I don’t, then what hope is there that it will? That anything will be right again?
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

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The heat of late July faded by mid-August bringing one of the coolest summer months on record. With the dying heat, Jewell felt suddenly invigorated. It was not such a trial to get out of bed every morning or to even eat the ridiculous amount of food piled on her plate each day in order to help her “fatten up.” She always sent a withering stare at her daughter for such a comment, but now this was followed by eating every last pancake smothered in chocolate—she simply couldn’t get enough of it—instead of pushing her food around on the plate while everyone watched her.

Despite these displays of renewed energy, she was the only one feeling optimistic; her entire family remained cautious and watchful, restricting her freedom as much as had become custom. “But I feel perfectly well. I doubt I would even get winded if we took a walk into town.” It was a not-so-subtle hint that she desperately wanted to get out of the house and off the property today.

“I’d nae like tae find out if ye would, love. It be cool enough in the ‘ouse today, why not just rest,” he was guiding her with a hand on her lower back towards the couch she had vacated soon after being settled there with a nice book to keep her occupied for the afternoon. “The windows be open for ye, an’ there be a nice breeze.”

She pouted at him like a little kid as she sat back on the couch, hands coming to fold over her stomach. “But everyone else gets to play outside,” with everyone else being the children.

“Aye, but they donnae get faint in the ‘eat, now do they?” Her mouth scrunched over to one side and she looked away. “An’ before ye go objectin’, it is warm enough out today tae ‘ave me worryin’ about ye.” He leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead before turning to leave the room.

“Just where are you going?” Her tone spoke her continued displeasure despite the previous display of affection.

“I jus’ be goin’ down the road to check on somethin’ at the Keg. Be back in less than an ‘our, I swear it.”

She frowned, picking up the nearby book he had given her earlier before tossing it away without even a glance at its cover. “If you’re going to keep me cooped up in the house, at least give me something pretty to look at or something interesting to do.”

“Aye, m’lady,” he replied smiling. “I will do ye better by givin’ ye both. The kids will pick ye wild flowers. Ye can arrange them as ye like and Amanda will set them up in the house when yer done?”

She dug the toe of her slipper into the hardwood floor, “I guess that doesn’t sound so bad.”

He took that as a yes and departed, sending the kids off to search for flowers before tending to his own business for the rest of the early afternoon.

Jewell only had to wait half an hour before Moradin and Eva Jade came marching inside, their shoes wet with the dew that still clung to the tall grasses of the nearby fields, Eva’s arms bursting with a variety of wild flowers. Their presence was a more than welcome distraction, her patience running thin even in the half hour she had spent alone, idle. “Ah, my little green man and lady of the woods, how charming of you to bring me this present.”

Moradin grinned, stopping at the entrance of the room to bow to his mother, “An offering to the Lady of Faerie.” Out of all the children, Moradin was the most intrigued by Faerie and his heritage. The stories Jewell could tell her eldest son enlivened his imagination and opened a whole new world in which the shy young man liked to spend his time within, wandering in daydreams.

“Tsk, son. Do not let the Queen hear you speak so.” She sat up more on the couch, trying to look the part of the Lady while grimacing at a sharp twinge her quick movements caused in her back.

“Where do you want them, mama?” Eva Jade looked around the room for a suitable place to set the flowers with those pure white eyes of hers.

“Mmm. Why don’t you set them on the low table here, that way I can reach them without moving too much and giving pappa a heart attack?” All three grinned at that; the tension in the house had not totally affected the younger children or even Moradin, who was wiser than the rest but feigned ignorance when it came to his mother’s health, but it had not fully escaped their notice either. “Wait Eva,” as the girl moved to set the flowers down. “Moradin, can you take that stack of papers over there—they’re old Gossip GangSTAR editions—and put them down first? I wouldn’t want to ruin the wood.”

Ever the dutiful son, Moradin scattered Marc Franco’s rag sheets all over the table in front of his mother before Eva Jade set the flowers down. “Perfect, sweetlings. Now Eva, if you’ll just get me the scissors in the kitchen,” the girl already started for the other room as soon as her mother mentioned them, “and don’t run with them! I’ll be all set.”

“Is this enough flowers for you, mamma?”

“Absolutely, Moradin. This is probably enough to put a little vase in everyone’s room too.”

“Good. Then I think we may go play by the stream and pond then, if that’s okay.”

“Mmmhm,” Jewell nodded as Eva Jade returned with the scissors, handing them off carefully as she had been taught. “Thanks darling. Run along and enjoy the sunshine now.”

Eva Jade needed no further prompting than that, dashing back out-of-doors with a “whoop!” Moradin lingered a moment longer, “Amanda said she’d come back in to set the flowers up for you in an hour or so.”

“All right.” She nodded, fingers already working at separating the different stems.

“If you need anything else…”

She looked up at her eldest boy and smiled; she was always so proud of how considerate he was to others and how patient too. She always saw in him the best of both herself and Alex. “I will let you know darling. You’ll be the first one I call.”

He gave her his shy smile before following Eva Jade outside in a less wild manner.
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

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It didn’t take Jewell very long to set the flowers into acceptable arrangements. Hardly being a patient woman, though, she waited all of ten minutes for Amanda to appear and put the flowers in vases before rising and going about the task herself. It required a lot of bending down, which she wasn’t used to, in order to retrieve the vases, causing a few more twinges in her back; however, she didn’t truly mind. It was nice to be moving about like she wasn’t the invalid everyone treated her as.

She hummed as she filled each vase with water, having to rely on the indoor plumbing system she had designed years ago rather than her own abilities; it wouldn’t due to push her limits too far even though she felt better than she had in months. She let the water run over her hands, delighting in the simple feel of the element she was aligned to on her skin. Her humming quickly turned to singing, the words aimed down at her stomach with a silly smile forming on her lips: “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray.”

Once she arranged the flowers in vases, she scattered the arrangements across the lower floor of the house. Feeling rather adventurous, impressed with her success, and only a bit winded, she braved the stairs with a vase in one hand, her other holding onto the banister. “What were they saying about me not gaining enough weight? I can barely get myself up these stairs now. I really have turned into a heifer—won’t Marc Franco be happy?” She stopped at the top, her breathing quickened a touch with the combined exertion of the stairs and the running dialogue she was entertaining with herself.

Eyeing the colors of the flowers she was currently holding, she moved towards Eva Jade’s room; “These will go nicely with her summer comforter.” No sooner had reached the doorway, though, than a sharp pain stabbed at both her back and abdomen. She gasped as the vase went crashing to the floor, her hands occupied in grasping at the doorjamb to keep herself upright as pain wracked her body.

Worse than the physical pain, though, was the memory that came with it.

At eight months pregnant, Jewell often found she did not have the energy to get around. However, with a five year old daughter constantly clamoring for her attention and an absent husband some tasks were unavoidable.

She was even more awkward moving around the kitchen to prepare dinner than normal. The oven and stove top were to be avoided at all costs—unable to defend herself against the heat, she became even more sensitive to it—so they were having a dish Jewell had discovered upon first arriving in RhyDin: peanut butter and jelly.

Jewell set the plate with Amanda’s sandwich before the little girl, smiling as her daughter, kicking her feet back and forth as she sat on the high kitchen barstool, dug right in with ungraceful relish. She turned back to the opposite counter top to prepare her own gourmet dinner when a sharp pain tore through her abdomen and pierced her lower back. A series of quick, painful uterine contractions followed and then another. As she leaned forward on the counter to catch herself, she looked down and saw blood already beginning to stain her dress.


Fear and pain immobilized her, bringing her to the ground with a panicked little cry as those dreadful contractions began. Her eyes burned with tears as she grasped her stomach, trying to force back the acute pain, trying to stop the inevitable. “Please, not again.”

Her petitions were pointless: She felt the warmth of blood between her thighs.
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

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Amanda found her there only a few minutes later. She came barging up the stairs, shouting, after finding her mother’s place empty downstairs and some of the vases already set up. “Maaa-ma! You better not be working. If you are, I’m gonna tell pappa the second he gets home and let him deal with you.” Having reached the top of the stairs, Amanda turned right, moving towards her own room to look for Jewell, completely missing her sprawled form in the hallway. “Mamma?” She called again, not getting an answer as she poked her head into her room.

“Manda,” it was a small, breathless cry that spun her daughter around on her feet.

The teen ran for her, face going pale upon seeing the blood soaking into Eva Jade’s pristine white carpet. “Mamma—no…” She had seen this before. Panic quickened her breathing to match her mother’s.

“I need the doct—or!” Jewell practically shouted and cried as another series of contractions squeezed her muscles painfully. When Amanda just stood stone still, staring, she did yell, “Now!”

Her daughter was swift in motion after that, moving with a calm precision that would make Jewell proud were she given time to think on it; the pain and anxiety already clouded her thoughts.

Amanda practically flew out of the house, her feet not touching the ground at times as she defied both gravity and the speed of mere mortals. Nothing could stop her; she didn’t even spare the time to explain to Moradin, who could feel her worry and fear through their link, what was happening. She needed to get the doctor and then she needed to get back and be at her mother’s side. She was convinced that she was the only one that had the power to save her mother this time.

She met Stephen halfway down the main road leading into town. His rush towards the house was only exceeded by her own, his desire to reach his wife heightened when he saw his step-daughter speeding down the road towards him with such a grave expression on her face. Amanda spared only a moment to stop and command him: “Mamma—you have to get to her—now! Me—doctor.” The exertion of running was not making her breathless but the fear freshly stirred in her certainly was.

Stephen had already known something was amiss, being able to sense his wife through their connection. His feelings of unease, which had started when he had reached the Keg earlier that day, had only increased over the last hour or so, coming to a culmination minutes before, which had sent him out the door of the pub. He simply clapped Amanda on her shoulder, sending her off again on her most important task that he would trust to few others, before he rushed onwards in the direction from whence she came.
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

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“Murinin!?” Stephen shouted desperately as he threw open the front door. The entire house seemed deceptively tranquil and still as he headed for the stairs. He met Moradin on them. The quiet wall-flower boy of such a serious nature looked close to tears.

“I wanted to move her…” It didn’t need to be said. Even at twelve, Moradin was still not as physically strong as other boys his age, nor would he likely ever be. He may have inherited his father’s height, but he had inherited mother’s willowy frame.

Stephen gave the boy a weak smile, as much as he could muster at the moment, before consoling him with an important task he needed the boy to oversee. “I need ye tae watch yer brothers and sisters, understand? Keep them outta the way.”

Moradin nodded, taking the responsibility to heart and heading outside as Stephen mounted the stairs. The second he reached the top, the scent of his wife’s blood assaulted him. It was intoxicating and sickening all at once. The desires it aroused in him were roughly pushed aside as he approached her, kneeling down at her side. “Murinin?”

Her eyes had been closed, jaw clenched and breathing quick, when he approached. She had neither the heart nor strength to move herself from the spot of her fall. As he knelt down besides her, she opened tear filled eyes to plead with him: “This can’t… It’s too soon. Too much blood. I can’t do this again. Please—”

“Yes ye can, love,” he found himself having to reassure her against all his fears suddenly manifest before his eyes. “Everythin’ is goin’ tae be okay.”

“No,” she sobbed, her chest heaving. “There’s too much blood. Too much.”

“Shh now, it be nothin’, I promise ye. Now let’s get ye tae bed an’ wait fer the doctor. Ye look an absolute fright, lyin’ there on the floor like ye are,” he teased her. She tried to laugh but it came out as more of a pained sob that anguished him. “I’m gonna pick ye up now,” he warned. Her short, jerky nod as she closed her eyes again was confirmation enough for him that she was ready. He gathered her in his arms carefully, the scent of blood only assailing him more viciously with such proximity; he had to steady himself against it before starting for their bedroom.

“The floor…” She groaned, knowing it must be stained with her blood by now. For some reason, it was easier to focus her mind on such mundane worries as what her daughter would think of her ruined bedroom carpet rather than thinking about what was happening to her body.

“Don’t ye worry yer pretty ‘ead ‘bout tha’. I be ready tae plunder us some new carpet in no time.”
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

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Stephen paced before the open window of their bedroom, needing relief from the scent of Jewell’s blood that permeated the entire house by now; he could excuse this momentary inattention to her by claiming he was watching for the doctor. He stepped back to her side now and again to wipe her forehead down or to brush her hair off her sweaty face. It was all he could do and the futility of such actions in providing her relief was slowly driving him mad. He had seen this coming for months now. Why couldn’t he have done something to stop it? Why couldn’t he do anything now?

He tried to tell her stories, too, anything to keep her mind off of what was happening. He wasn’t even sure if she was listening, but it aided his own peace of mind for the time being. “Then just as we were ‘bout tae board them, the crew spotted a ship on the ‘orizon, flyin’ British colors ov all things. Wha’ luck! An’ we could nae jus’ up an’ run, ‘avin’ jus’ immobilized the other ship.”

Jewell fell into a fitful sleep for a time and still Stephen kept talking: “But when we got back tae the ship, we found the box were empty! I were shot in the arm, an’ fer wha’? I spent the next year ‘unting them down; maggots thinkin’ they could outsmart me.”

As time went by, though, his agitation grew as the scent of blood needled at him slowly. Of all the weeks for Iona to go visit her relatives! He desperately needed to step outside to clear his head, but there was no one he could leave to attend to Jewell with Iona gone and Amanda still out. “An’ where be tha’ damned doctor anyhow?” The pained moans of his wife as she shifted on the bed, her life slowly flowing out of her, certainly did not help improve his mood or patience. He had ceased speaking out loud to her some time ago; neither of them had been listening to what he had been saying anyways.

As the sun climbed across the sky, casting shadows upon Jewell’s face to give her an even more deathly pall, Stephen started to despair. He needed to do something! He just couldn’t stand there anymore. Banging his fist against the window frame, he turned abruptly and moved towards the bedroom door. If the doctor wasn’t going to come, he needed to take matters into his own hands; he needed to find someone who could help them. “Don’t leave me,” his wife’s quiet plea stopped him in his tracks.

He turned back, moving to the side of the bed and lifting the water glass up to her lips for her, “Nae luv, I weren’t goin’ anywhere. I promise ye tha’.”

Finally, as he stood up to stretch by the window once more, Stephen saw the doctor as well as a nurse being pushed along by Amanda up the road. He could even hear her angry shouts for them to move faster from where he stood. He moved to Jewell’s side once again, mopping her forehead with a cool towel. “The doctor be ‘ere, love. Everythin’ will be all right.” He couldn’t speak with much conviction.
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

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The doctor wasted little time in assessing the situation once in the room. He looked very grave over the amount of blood and graver still as he moved his stethoscope first over Jewell’s chest and then over her lower abdomen. “The situation is worse than I thought,” he admitted after pulling Stephen aside. “Her pulse is already weak and I cannot hear the baby’s heartbeat. The best thing for the baby would be to do a caesarean, but I’m afraid your wife would bleed too much then.” He addressed Stephen seriously, unable to allow Jewell, under the influence and haze of such pain and bad memories, to make the serious decision that was before her.

“An’ a natural birth?” Stephen couldn’t take his eyes off his wife as he asked. Her chest barely rose now with each breath she took, and the intervals seemed to be getting longer in between each breath as well.

“It may take longer, which will pose a greater risk to the baby, but there’s a good chance the bleeding will stop when the placenta is removed, which could save Jewell’s life.”

Stephen stood still watching the nurse attend to Jewell now in his stead. Amanda would like to have been there, holding her mother’s hand and coaching her through this; she had been removed from the room, kicking and screaming, though. Maybe if they asked her to come back in she could work a miracle again, just like she had done with Moradin; no one’s life would have to be in danger because she could use her own life energy to save them and… No. He knew that Jewell did not want Amanda putting herself in such a position, possibly risking her own health, and he would not allow it either. But what did Jewell want? He kept replaying a conversation he had with his wife over and over in his head, unable to decide what to do.

Stephen was bent over the small map table he had moved into their bedroom since Jewell’s pregnancy had progressed. She had been sleeping more and more while he still required very little sleep to function. Moving the table had been a matter of practicality: allowing him to work and watch over her at the same time.

He looked up from his study when her breathing changed suddenly, signaled by a quiet gasp. “Murinin?”

She didn’t respond at first, just shifted on the bed as if trying to get comfortable again. Silence continued and he looked back down at the map before him, hoping she would fall back to sleep. Minutes past before he heard her quiet address, “Stephen?”

“Mmm love, I be ‘ere.”

“Stephen,” she took a deep breath, struggling to say something, “if something goes wrong,” a pregnant silence stood between them, “if something goes wrong, promise me they’ll save the baby, even over me. Promise me, please.”

“Jewell,” he was starting through the dark of their room at her, appalled and wondering what nightmare had brought this on. His wife had been nothing but positive about the pregnancy, even after he had found out about the various complications. He couldn’t believe that now she was talking like this.

When he didn’t respond, she spoke up again, “Promise me, Stephen.” Her voice had a desperate quality to it.

“Just—Go back to sleep, murinin. Everything will be fine.”


Everything wasn’t fine, though. He hadn’t made her that promise and he couldn’t do so now. At the same time, Stephen had to make the decision either in line with her wishes or against them.

“Captain Kidd, time is of the essence here.”

“The natural birth. Do whatever ye can, jus’ save me wife.” He couldn’t stop looking at her: her face, her hair, her skin. Sure, she would argue that she was hardly looking her best at the moment. Still, she was beautiful. What would he do without her? Even in his darkest hours of late, when he had found out what risk she had put herself through to have this baby, he couldn’t entertain the notion of life without her. He wouldn’t now, either.

The doctor had nodded at Stephen’s direction, moving quickly to the nurse’s side, “We need to induce labor now.” He took Jewell’s hand then, trying to gain her attention and spoke softly to her, “Jewell, we need to induce labor now.”

“No!” She shook her head back and forth, hair soaked with sweat, opening her eyes and tearing her hand from the doctor’s grasp. “It’s too soon, we can’t. Too soon.”

Stephen moved to her other side, kneeling down and gently touching her shoulder. “Murinin, the doctor ‘as tae do this, fer both of ye.”

She turned to him, a few tears already rolling down her cheeks. “But…it’s too soon.”

“Aye, love, I know.” He took her hand and squeezed it, reassuring her that he was there. When she nodded ever so slightly before allowing her eyes to close once more, they felt so very heavy, Stephen gave a nod to the doctor to proceed.

Under the doctor’s direction, the nurse stepped over, holding an open vial to Jewell’s lips, “Miss, I’m gonna need you to drink this down for me now. The taste is a bit bitter, so brace yerself.”

Opening her mouth like a dutiful child being administered medicine, Jewell drank down that bitter brew.
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

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The concoction worked quickly and Jewell found her senses reawakened with new pain, familiar and unwelcome, as she went into labor.

The doctor continually checked her blood pressure and pulse as the minutes ticked by. “She’s losing strength quickly. I’m afraid she may even be going into shock. We need to try and keep her conscious for as long as possible here,” Doctor Axelrod explained to the nurse, perspiration dotting his brow as he knelt at the foot of the bed. “It should only take a little while longer; she’s already dilated.”

Stephen had turned his back away some time ago from the scene being played out before him, unable to watch his wife’s struggle because he was unable to help her in any way. This was supposed to be a joyful occasion for them, but he found little reason to rejoice as his wife lay dying and his child was possibly already dead.

“All right,” the doctor nodded to the nurse, interrupting Stephen’s thoughts, “it’s time.” He looked up over the sheet draped over Jewell’s legs, “Jewell, we need to start this now. I’m going to need you to breathe and push. Breathe Jewell and push.” Her head lolled forward in imitation of a nod. She attempted to do the deep breathing techniques she and Amanda had been practicing for weeks now, but it felt like she couldn’t draw enough air into her lungs when she tried. “Good, Jewell. Now push.” She groaned, trying to push everything—the baby, the pain, the blood, the memories—out before her breathy panting continued. They repeated the process again and again; each time her breathing became shallower after. “Jewell, I need you to push for me again, only a few more times and it’ll be over.” Silence. “Jewell?” No response. “Captain Kidd, we need you.”

Stephen turned back around, coming quickly to Jewell’s side, his worry increasing at the way she was collapsed back against the pillows, eyes open but lackluster. “Murinin?”

“It’s almost over, but I’m afraid we’re losing her here. She needs to push.”

Stephen took Jewell’s hand, clasping it tightly as if he could will strength into her. Her skin felt clammy and cool to the touch, and there was little physical response from her save for a brief flexing of her fingers around his. “Come on, luv, ye can do this.” He coached her as best as he could, “Ye ‘ave tae push now.”
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Re: Divergence (Originally Posted in 2009)

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I have always wondered what it would be like to drown—my lungs filling with water, my throat choked with it. I imagined once that it must be a lot like suffocating. I have been choked to near death before, and I wonder if it really feels the same as drowning. Truly, I do not think they are quite akin.

I cannot drown but I have thought about it many times all the same. A momentary panic comes over you as your head gets pulled under the water. You thrash and fight against it but the water is seductive and powerful. More powerful than you are. It starts to lull you to sleep. Your limbs start to feel heavy and you cannot think clearly. You feel ever so sleepy and sluggish. Then it occurs to you—why fight it anymore? It would be so nice to sleep, you think. And really, what were you fighting for to begin with? You cannot even remember. As sleep takes over, it is really your brain shutting down, you look up at the surface of the water and see the light sparkling on it and your last thoughts are, “How pretty.”

I think I am drowning now.

I remember fighting before. I fought for so long. I put all my strength into it! But what was I fighting against? My arms feel so heavy now, my very fingers feel like lead, and I want to just sleep.

“Come on, Murinin! Don’t ye give up on me now, not now. Keep fightin’ for me.”

It is nice and quiet here. The water feels like it is stopping up my ears and blocking out all other noise. I can barely hear anything, just the rush of the current. I do not think I want to ever hear anything else again. Some people hate the feel of water in their ears, but it is rather nice. The peaceful buzz of silence is comforting.

“We just need one more big push from her, that should do it. You hear that, Jewell? Just one more.”

It is still too bright to go to sleep, though. Maybe if I sink just a little further down, then I can just close my eyes for a little while. Just a little rest and then maybe I can fight again.

“Just one more push, Jewellsie, an’ we be ‘avin’ our lil girl with us. Ye can do this.”


If only I could remember what I was fighting against anyways. No matter. Just a little rest and maybe I will remember. The light looks pretty from here now. It is so far away and not at all bright and harsh. It is so very soft and pretty. It isn’t bright enough to keep me from sleeping now, so I think I will just close my eyes for a bit.
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