Rowan and Aelin Fluff.

Labor and Toil Part 2

 Contrary to popular belief, giving birth doesn't just *happen*, so in this fic, you will see the real side of birth, not the Hollywood version.

     Rowan felt icy hot fear race through his veins as Yrene nodded her assent. Aelin paled, her hand shooting out to grab his. "But Aelin, as this is your first child, the first stage of your labor will take some time, so I would prepare for a long day and night. Your water hasn't broken yet, right?" Aelin nodded slowly. Gods, she was pale.
    "Well, expect that in a few hours, and as soon as it happens, send for me." Rowan squeezed Aelin's hand lightly, "We will." Aelin only groaned, "Can't you just yank him out?"
    Rowan shut out the image, and glared at her. Yrene also seemed mildly concerned at that little quip, and shook her head vigorously, "No, for a few reasons, but I can give you an extremely mild pain tonic." Aelin swallowed hard, "I'll take the tonic."

  After asking Yrene just what the hell they were supposed to do until Aelin was ready, Rowan and Aelin decided to tell their friends. But that would require they get dressed.

"Rowan? Can you grab this dress for me?" Aelin voice wavered slightly, and Rowan turned from his side of the ginormous closet. He quickly made his way over to Aelin, who was having difficulties reaching one of her blue dresses. He slowly handed it to her. Rowan watched as she slipped it over her body, the soft blue silk sighing against her skin. Her hair was still in its knot, pieces flying free. Aelin tugged it down over her bump, looked at him.
  "You're starring, Buzzard."
   He smirked and made his way behind her to tie her laces. 
"You are beautiful, why shouldn't I stare?"
  Rowan tugged lightly, and made a knot before turning her to face him. "We are going to be fine, Aelin. I promise."
     Her eyes shuddered, and she heaved a breath as she pressed her face to his chest.
     "I know, it's just so scary. I— this poor little baby's going to be in our world, and out here I can't protect him. I can't protect him from the mean things, or the things that hurt." Rowan felt his shirt grow damp beneath her face, and for once he didn't have a speech, so he told her the truth.

"I think that's the part about being a parent, growing and feeling with your child. Learning how to give and take, letting them pick themselves up every once in a while, and the rest of the time being for them when they fall." Aelin groaned, and Rowan thought he had laid it on a bit too thick, but when he saw Aelin's grimace of pain, he realized it was just another contraction. He ran a hand up her back in a soothing manner, murmuring into her hair, "Do you still want to call for them? We could just tell them when you are ready." Aelin considered it.

"I just want to tell Aedion and Lys. But I wish Elide were here."
   Rowan nodded against her head, "Lorcan said they'd be here in a week or so." Aelin sighed heavily and pulled away, a hand on her stomach. "I'd just like to speak to someone who knew what it's like. Someone who knew what it was like to bring a child into the world."
   Rowan smiled down at his queen. She was so beautiful, and his heart ached with how much he loved her. Rowan didn't think there were words for what he felt every time he remembered that she was with his child, that she wanted this, that they were going to have a family. He leaned in to kiss her neck, then nipped at her jaw. "Brush your hair, Princess. Then we can call the hounds."
   Aelin elbowed him sharply, but waddled off to the bathing room to finish up.

    Aelin sighed through her nose as she dropped onto the fainting couch in their sitting room, watching as Rowan arranged the wood in the hearth. He stepped away and she ignited it with half a thought. The pull of her magic felt odd, though. For the past two months, whenever she'd pulled on the thread of her magic, it felt ... unstable, as though it could go out of control at any moment. Perhaps it had something to do with her fluctuating emotions. Aelin sighed through her nose and grabbed a throw pillow, slipping it behind her. Rowan prowled over slid next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He always seemed to find a reason to be touching her nowadays.
   She allowed him to tuck her into his side, that familiar scent of his washing over her. "How do you feel?" 
  Aelin cleared her throat, running a hand down his chest. "I feel fine, just anxious." She felt Rowan nod, the hand that was draped around her shoulders made idle strokes along her silk-clad arm, and she hummed a bit at the contact. They sat there for a few more minutes in silence until someone knocked on their door. Rowan sighed and pulled his arm away, groaning as he stood.
   Aelin smiled wickedly as she readjusted herself, "Old Man." He only flipped her a vulgar gesture as he pulled open the door.