A Difficult Baby

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I screamed, take me back! This isn't my family, these aren't my parents!

I cried out as loud as I could voicing all my displeasure and frustration so everyone could hear.

"Congratulations Lady Celeste, it's a beautiful baby girl."

What language is this? I was trilingual but I don't recognize the words. It had a Latin base but it wasn't Spanish, Portuguese, French or any other language I've ever heard.

I heard a relieved laugh and felt someone lift me up and carry me towards what I assume to be the woman who just gave birth to me.

"Darling, look, she has your eyes."

"And your lungs." I heard a pleasant masculine laugh.

I wailed loudly until someone slipped something in my mouth and a warm, rich, sweet taste rushed into my mouth.

"She seems to have my appetite."

"Hush dear, the midwife is still here."

When was the last time I ate? I can't even remember my last meal.

I can remember my grandmother's soup recipe's and my mother's sauces, and my own recipes. But what was the last thing I ate? Probably a fruit smoothie. When my husband left town for work I rarely cooked. I never felt the urge unless I was cooking for someone else.

I drank until I was drunk on new mothers mother's milk and passed out.

I dreamed about my family. My mother used to give me coffee when I was younger, it was mostly milk with a bit of coffee mixed in so I could feel like I was grown. It always soothed me, so much so that a cup would put me to sleep at night. She would also make me chocolate, warm, rich and sweet. Mama would put the mug in my hands on cold nights and wrap my up with a kiss on my head.


When I woke up I cried and was promptly picked up. I still couldn't see anything and was scared. Everything was loud and my skin was sensitive. I was always hungry and exhausted.

I could smell the different people who picked me up. The woman who gave me life smelled like flowers and cinnamon. Her husband seemed to like chewing on mint, and he smelled like ink and parchment. There was another woman...a maid I think, she smelled like lavender.

One time, I think, a wet nurse tried to feed me and it tasted awful. I spat everything up and wailed until my new mother picked me up. They tried a substitute a few more times but I refused whole heartedly.

I refused to think of these people as mother and father. I already had a family. I didn't want to be held unless it was to eat. But sometimes the lady of the house would sing to me while she held me. It was so sweet that I would automatically go still. She had a lovely voice.

Her husband would read to me sometimes, and kiss my toes. I tried to kick his face and he laughed. I couldn't help but smile. His laugh was infectious.

They would take me to bed sometimes. I was comfortable, warm and safe.

I found myself getting used to these people. But then I would remember my family, my past life, and would cry, not much could stop me.

My name is ... what was my name?!

I cried, I could remember everyone's name. But what was my name?!

I cried until my new mother held me, and sang. There was a gentle light and I finally calmed down.

Sara, my name was Sara.

Small update, I'm drawing something for each chapter. The cover image is fan art from asoiaf. I drew it and the characters look enough loose my oc that I thought why not. Its supposed to be Orion and his sister. Below is Draco and his wife Celeste with their daughter.

 Below is Draco and his wife Celeste with their daughter

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