From The Inside

33

Pain was something which Ylva had known all too well in life. But nothing competed with this pain; it was like every ounce of her strength was being taken and twisted against her, resulting in pinching stabs. Frowning, she reached up and removed the wet cloth from her head, narrowing her eyes she twisted it in her one hand – the other still gripping onto Beorn's – and quite childishly threw it away from herself.

She didn't want no cooling cloths. That quite frankly wasn't brining any relief to her being, in no shape or form was having a damp cloth on her head helping. What it was doing, was irritating her. She couldn't move her head without it falling about as well. It wasn't going to go anywhere now, considering it had impacted against the ground with a wet thud. It narrowly missed hitting against some animal which was pottering around close by. Ylva had no clue as to what animals were coming and going from the bedroom. She could choose a pick, it could be any number of them.

"How do women cope with this?" She questioned in one of her more rational moments. "Like, I remember being on the outskirts of a village once...and there was this woman, with seven children. Seven?! Seven?! How? No seriously...how?" She questioned though she wasn't exactly expecting an answer. "...I am not having seven children..." Ylva whispered venomously while narrowing her eyes at Beorn.

He in took breath deeply and inwardly prepared for the possible of insults to be sent his way. Naturally, he'd be the closest person to feel Ylva's pained wrath. And really, he could take it. Out of any other creature inhabiting the home, he could take her pain. He couldn't fully rid her of it, though he wished he could, but he could certainly deal with her lashing out at him.

"I'm not having any more children after this, by the way."

"Is that so?"

"Don't get smug with me! You have no right to sit there and be smug! I mean...you are just sitting there! I am not subjecting myself to this agony again just to fulfil some pathetic need to leave heirs behind." Ylva said through gritted teeth while growing silent for a moment before screaming out. "It's all right for you, really, I mean...I am doing all the hard work, and I am the one being ripped apart. But it's fine, because you may finally get a son out of this."

"What happened to just daughters?" Beorn asked while rolling his eyes. Even when in clear pain she couldn't help but joke, though it was strained and quite honestly, full of sarcasm, it was still joking.

"I don't even care! As long they're healthy, I could could not care less! Daughters, sons, whatever! Just...whatever..." Ylva's voice trailed off as she looked up at the ceiling and blinked slowly. Tilting her head to the side, she let out a heavy breath. Natural instincts were kicking, in and at any other time she would opt to ignore. Yet having to push was a too strong of an instinct to ignore.

—

Twelve hours, Beorn had sat and spied the sun set and slowly rise again with the time it took for Ylva to give birth. Ylva laid asleep, pale and shallowly breathing. Their children, on the other hand now resided in the crib – which he had moved into their room – all peacefully curled up together.

He looked from the small forms to her again. She painfully tried to move yet failed and just whimpered and fidgeted awkwardly.

Reaching forwards, he pushed some of her damp hair out of her face and sighed gently. He had yet to sleep. And he didn't intend to do so until he felt comfortable knowing that she was fine. Really, she didn't look it. He hadn't seen her look in such a pale state since Azog had attacked her all those years ago. But this was different. That state was bought on by a vicious attack. Her current state was bought on by the natural process of childbirth. And really, it had done a right number on her.